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slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year

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Corey Cunningham x bisexual!fem!Reader x bisexual!Allyson Nelson

A few months after escaping Haddonfield, Allyson starts to have feelings for a barista at her favorite coffee shop (you). She and Corey decide to explore the potential of a relationship with you, at least for one night. My first time posting smut so feedback is extra appreciated!

Warnings - drinking, fingering, vaginal sex, voyuerism, F/F/M threesome. Pretty straightforward

5,581 words

@rebel-blue @nachtmahr666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @multifandom--mess @toxicanonymity and @clemkruckinnie (ik we haven't interacted much but i saw you saying you wish there was more Allyson content a while back, so I thought I'd tag you!)

18+, minors dni

Allyson is at the nurse’s desk when her phone rings. She’s not even supposed to have it on her, but since she didn’t get the promotion, she doesn’t give a fuck. Mathis isn’t even here today. She steps away from the desk and answers.

“We need to leave,” Corey’s strained voice says on the other end of the line.

“I can’t right now, I’m at work.”

“Tonight, then. Will you meet me at 9 at the diner off 74? We need to talk about your grandmother. She wants to kill me.”

“What?”

“Look, I can’t take it anymore. It’s time to say goodbye to Haddonfield.” The finality in Corey’s voice scares Allyson.

“Corey, wait!” She hisses.

He doesn’t say anything but the call doesn’t disconnect.

“I can’t leave without making a scene right now. But my lunch is in 30 minutes. I’ll go pack, I already started last night, and then I’ll pick you up or meet you somewhere. Just give me an hour.”

“An hour.” He repeats, his voice sounding even more strained than before.

“Just stay somewhere safe, I’ll go as fast as I can. Please don’t do anything stupid.” Allyson says.

It’s been four months since Allyson clocked out for lunch, got in her car, and drove away from Haddonfield forever. Corey followed her Ford station wagon on his motorcycle, west, south, back east, south again. They stayed on the move for weeks, living off each of their savings, staying in flea bitten motels or sleeping in Allyson’s car.

Corey checked the news obsessively, but never in front of Allyson. Whenever one of them went to the bathroom, when he went into the gas station alone to buy snacks while she pumped the gas, late at night when he couldn’t sleep. Until he was sure Doug and Dr. Mathis weren’t going to be traced back to him. Allyson had been ready to quit driving around for a long time by then, and finally, without telling her why, Corey gave in and they settled somewhere.

They both went back to their previous professions. Allyson found a job in a general practitioner’s office. A doctor she actually likes and respects, a doctor who treats his employees well. Corey wound up at a dealership, doing repairs on American cars, Chrysler, Dodge, Jeep. They got a nice little apartment. They both make way more money than they did in Haddonfield, and the discount Corey gets on cars is insane, so he surprised Allyson with a new car for her birthday.

Neither of them can quite believe how good things are going. That they escaped, left it all behind, and now they’re just… Well, not normal, but they can fool everyone else into thinking they are. There’s a coffee shop that Allyson has become a regular at. It’s not far from the hospital so she stops there sometimes, in the mornings before work, on her lunch break, on her days off when she’s in the neighborhood. Being a regular somewhere helps her feel like she’s actually part of the community, not just a tourist. It makes the facade she and Corey maintain that little bit more convincing.

You’ve been a barista for a year when a girl you’ve never seen before comes in. While you have a few people you know by name, or by their order, most of the customers just sort of blend together. This girl though, she’s so pretty, with dark green eyes and a little button of a nose. You know you would remember if she’d come in before. Almond milk latte and a blueberry muffin. She lets you spell her name wrong on the cup.

“That’s how it should be spelled,” she jokes.

You make a mental note to spell it right if you see her again, and you really hope you do.

It takes two weeks, but on a Thursday morning she comes in again, wearing forest green scrubs that accentuate her green eyes.

“Almond milk latte?” You say instead of hello.

“You remembered!?” She replies in shock.

“Of course,” you say. “A-L-L-Y-S-O-N.” You turn the cup around to show her.

“I’m impressed!” She claps her hands. Your heart flutters in your chest a little.

The next time she comes in, it’s a Saturday afternoon, just as you’re about to leave. Your coworker has already clocked in and is standing at the register, prepared to take the order, but you haven’t clocked out yet, so you ask if you can do one more. She has a man with her this time, and he’s just as gorgeous as she is, with an unruly mop of brown hair, and a broad, athletic build. They’re holding hands. Well, shit, you think.

“Hey Allyson,” you say, smiling widely. A little thing like a boyfriend isn’t going to stop you from being nice to a regular.

“Hey!” She says. She greets you by name even though you’ve already taken your name tag off for the day. You’re not the only one going out of their way to remember things it seems. The man’s name is Corey. Up close you can see his freckles and his dense eyelashes behind his glasses.

“Bummer your girl has a boyfriend,” a coworker says when you go into the back to finally actually clock out.

“Yeah. Ugh,” you sigh. “But did you see him? Be still my bisexual heart.”

Once, when Allyson has been a regular for a couple months, she comes in on your day off. You’re there anyway, feeding the caffeine monkey that lives on your back. It’s dead so you’re leaning on the counter talking to your coworkers as they make your drink.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on that side?” She asks, pointing behind the register.

“Not today, Ally Cat,” you say. The nickname is a huge gamble but to your shock and great joy, she fucking giggles.

She orders her coffee and sits down at a table. You walk by her on the way out and she calls your name.

“Do you wanna sit down? Not to make you hang out at work on your day off, but you were kinda already here.”

You pretend to deliberate, but of course you’re going to stay, at least as long as you can. You pull out the other chair at her tiny table. You get so absorbed talking to her you almost forget you had plans, and another friend is waiting for you. You apologize for not being able to stay longer.

“Well we should just plan to hang out sometime then,” she suggests.

“Yeah? That would be awesome.”

She gives you her number and you text her to give her yours. Then in your car you text the friend you’ll now be late to hang out with. She’ll forgive you when she finds out why.

Over text, you and Allyson decide to go to the mall. She picks you up in the afternoon. She’s all smiles as you get in the car. You knew she was pretty, but in the sunlight coming through the windshield she looks like an angel. You struggle to keep your composure.

As you walk around the mall you’re impressed with how easy she is to talk to, and her dorky sense of humor is genuine and charming. There’s things you’re dying to know but can’t ask. Does she like girls or is she just this flirty with everyone? Is her relationship with Corey monogamous? And what’s Corey’s deal? Every time you’ve seen him he’s been so quiet and reserved, but when he speaks there’s something magnetic about him. And his eyes are so intense, you know he’s got a hell of a story. But you try not to ask too many questions. You don’t want to seem weird.

Neither of you is really shopping, but you always wind up seeing something that catches your eye. You find a top that really speaks to you and, even better, it’s on clearance. The only problem is, it’s the only one left and a size down from what you usually wear. You present it to Allyson.

“You would look so good in that,” she says.

“It’s one size too small,” you say, exaggerating a pout.

“Here,” she says, guiding your hand with the top on the hanger to your chest. She lines the shoulder seams up with the shirt you’re wearing, then smooths the top on the hanger down your front and around your sides, lining the side seams up too. It’s totally innocent, but you feel yourself gushing anyway. It’s the most she’s ever touched you. “I think you should try it on. It would look incredible and it seems like it’ll fit.”

“Okay, you convinced me.”

In the dressing room you get the top on, and technically it does fit. But you feel like if you moved too quickly you could hulk out of it by accident. You try to take it off, but you hear the stitches groaning. Oh no.

You open the fitting room door and she’s standing right there.

“See!” She exclaims, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah,” you smile sheepishly, “It looks great, but there’s a problem.”

“What?”

“It felt like it was gonna tear when I tried to take it off. Can you help me?” You stand back from the door and let her in.

She closes the door, then turns to face you. You look into each other’s eyes for what is probably only a few seconds, but feels much, much longer.

“Raise your arms,” she says without breaking eye contact.

You do as you’re told. She curls her fingers under the hem of the shirt. Her fingers are cold, but her touch would’ve given you goosebumps either way. Slowly, carefully, much more slowly and carefully than she really needs to, she works the top up your stomach and over your breasts. You’re not wearing a bra and you know she notices, but she doesn’t look anywhere other than into your eyes until the shirt comes over your face and you can’t see her anymore. With the shirt almost all the way off, stretched between your arms above your head and still stuck on your shoulders, she instructs you to lean forward. You bend at the waist and she takes the shirt the rest of the way off, pulling it languidly down the length of your arms.

“There you go,” she says with a small smile when you’re finally free.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

You take a step towards her. Your nipples harden in the cold air, and with the distance between you closed they almost press against her. You both hold your breath. She looks down at your tits, then the rest of the way to the floor.

“Hand me the hanger?” She says.

You hand her the hanger, then pull the shirt you came with back on. She rehangs the top she’s holding and deposits it on the reject rack as you exit the store. You feel awkward walking back through the mall, cheeks burning, heart racing. What was that? You wonder. Allyson is quiet. Without talking about it, you make your way out of the mall and back to her car.

“I had fun,” she says, breaking the tension as she starts the engine.

“Me too,” you smile at her, still feeling a little unsure of what just happened.

“We should hang out again sometime. With Corey too.”

“I’d love that,” you reply.

When Allyson gets home Corey is sprawled on the couch watching TV.

“How was the mall?” he asks, sitting up and making room for her.

“It was great,” she says, plopping down next to him. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and squeezes her against him. “I really like her.”

“Do you… like her?”

Allyson has had feelings for girls since she was a young teenager, but she hadn’t felt able to articulate it before she got out of Haddonfield. Corey brought things out in Allyson, she felt she could tell him anything, but there were things she couldn’t tell even herself until she escaped the tomb her hometown had become. One night, under the scratchy blanket at a Super 8, unsure if Corey was even still awake, Allyson had whispered the word for the first time. Corey accepted it easily. After all, hadn’t he stirred for men at times? For his AP Physics teacher, and then for Roger Allen, and then for Michael Myers? They had never discussed what Allyson’s confession might mean for the relationship.

“Yes,” Allyson says quietly. She does like you.

Corey is loath to share Allyson with someone. He can’t help but feel like she would just wind up preferring them to him, leaving him all alone. But he’s seen you and Allyson interact. He’s recognized the looks she gives you. And in the moments he’s been witness to it, while his jealousy did rage, it was far outweighed by a feeling of warmth. How radiant Allyson is when she’s happy. How lucky he is that she ever made those faces at him, and that she continues to do so, even as he watches her infatuation with you deepen.

And Corey is attracted to you too. The first time he saw you he understood why Allyson was always talking about this mythical barista that remembered her order and how to spell her name.The customer service was not what Allyson was excited about.The idea of you and Allyson together instantly makes his cock rock hard under his sweatpants.

Allyson sees it happen, and reaches out to rest her hand on the imprint in the fabric. “What’s this for?” she asks playfully.

“For you liking her,” Corey says reluctantly.

“What was that?” She teases, squeezing gently.

“You heard me,” he growls, pressing himself into her hand.

“No, I think you should repeat yourself.” She laughs and takes her hand away.

Corey catches Allyson’s wrist in his huge hand. “You. Know. What I said.” He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her palm. He gently bites each of her fingers. Then he places her hand back on his cock.

“I think she likes me. And I think she’s into you too,” Allyson says, slowly stroking Corey through his pants.

“Me?” He moans. “Wh-what makes you think that?”

“She asked me about you a lot. And she told me when she makes your drink she puts an extra half pump of syrup in it for free.” Allyson slides her hand under Corey’s waistband to grip him directly, and

with that there is no more talking.

In the morning Corey and Allyson do their usual routine.She curls her hair and does her makeup while he leans in the doorway and watches.

“I think I'm getting coffee on my lunch break,” she says, winding a strand of hair around her curling iron.”What if I invite her to get dinner with us? Somewhere nice.”

“Like a date?” Corey asks.

“Yeah.” Allyson looks at him in the mirror and grabs another lock of hair to curl. “Like all three of us on a date.”

“I’m not convinced she’s interested in me,” he says.

“Well, that’s what dates are for. To see if you’re interested in somebody.”

Corey can’t argue with that. He pulls out his phone and searches for nice restaurants in the area while Allyson dabs concealer under her eyes.

“What do your evenings look like next week?” Allyson asks. At this point she doesn’t bother ordering and you don’t bother telling her her total. The coffee transaction happens in the background of your conversation.

“I think I’m wide open,” you tell her. Your sharpie is dry so you throw it away and dig a pack of new markers out from under the register.

“‘Do you want to get dinner with me and Corey one night?”

“Absolutely!” You say, completely failing to hide your excitement.Your hand shakes and you accidentally make a stray line on her cup. You turn it into a star to cover your mistake “Where were you thinking?”

“Would it be crazy if we went somewhere kinda… Upscale?” Allyson wiggles her eyebrows.”I heard about this place called The Frontier? Have you ever been?”

“You really meant upscale!” You laugh. “I’ve only been once, years ago.That would be really fun.”

The two of you agree on Wednesday, hoping there will still be reservations left in the middle of the week, then she leaves with her coffee. Out in the parking lot, she sees the star next to her name and feels giddy.

Holy shit. The fucking Frontier. That has to mean it’s a date, right? You think to yourself.

“The Frontier!” One of your coworkers says next to you, as if hearing your thoughts. “She’s so DTF.”

“It’s just dinner.” You say, waving your hand dismissively. But God do you hope it’s not just dinner.

As you get ready for your night with Corey and Allyson it’s still not clear to you what her intentions were in inviting you. You think about the moment you had with Allyson in the dressing room and hear your coworker’s voice. She’s so DTF. But Corey will be there. She wouldn’t bring him if she was down to fuck, would she? Unless she wants you to fuck Corey? You would fuck Corey happily. As excited as you are to see her alone, you always find yourself hoping Corey will be with her so you can look at him. So you can be reminded of the way his giant hands dwarf his coffee cup, and how, on the rare occasions you see him smile, it always starts with a smirk before spreading across his whole face.But it just seems too good to be true, that either of them would want to date or have sex with you, let alone both of them. You’re probably just reading too much into it.

Whatever. You dress like it’s a date, and if it isn’t one, there’s nothing wrong with looking hot at a fancy restaurant with some friends. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror and apply the finishing touches. Spritz of perfume, dainty gold necklace to accentuate your collar bones, making sure the front of your hair is just so. Then you go get your nice coat out of the closet and get in your car.

On the drive over, your heart races. You’re nervous, but it’s kind of thrilling. The feeling intensifies as you get closer to the restaurant. You turn the AC up full blast and crank the volume on your radio, trying to ground yourself. The Frontier has valet parking but you’re already anticipating the price of the evening, so you park a couple blocks away and walk, despite your nice shoes not being the most comfortable. As you approach the door you see Corey and Allyson standing on the sidewalk.

They both look so fucking hot, it’s completely unfair. Allyson has a heavy wool coat on, but it’s unbuttoned and underneath it you can see she’s wearing a dress that hugs her as tightly as a second skin from her bust to her hips before flaring out. Below the hem of the dress, her legs are toned and smooth all the way down to her feet inside her pointy, low-heeled shoes. Corey wears a leather jacket over a button down shirt with the top three buttons undone. The little bit of his chest you can see in the gap is so unholy, you feel a pang between your legs.

Corey sees you approaching first and gives you his little smirk. He points you out to Allyson, who looks up from her phone. She beams at you, and you grin back at both of them.

“Hey, I was just about to text you! You look great!” She exclaims, holding her arms open for a hug. You’re extremely tempted to put your arms inside her coat as it hangs away from her body, but that seems weirdly intimate, so you wrap your arms around the scratchy wool instead.

“So do you,” you say. “You both do.” You think Corey’s face seems to turn a little red at the comment, but he doesn’t react otherwise.

Allyson leads the way to the host stand. The Wednesday reservation plan worked and the three of you get sat immediately. The hostess leads you to a round table near the back of the restaurant. It’s dark in the way of fancy restaurants, with candles on the table and overhead lights that don’t do much of anything. It’s busy and most of the tables around you are full, but when you sit down it feels intimate and cozy, like the three of you are the only people there.

“Bottle of wine?” Allyson asks

“Sure,” you reply.

“White or red?”

“Whatever you want.”

Your server comes to the table and pours everyone water from a crystal carafe. Allyson orders a bottle of white wine. You look at the menu and try not to get overwhelmed. It’s an “American” restaurant but all the dishes have been “elevated” beyond recognition.

“Does this menu make any sense to either of you?” You ask

“No,” Corey says, shaking his head.

“Not at all,” Allyson adds.

All three of you laugh, and you relax a little, releasing tension you didn’t realize you were holding. They seem more at ease too.

Through the whole meal, the air between you and Allyson feels charged. The flirty banter you established at the coffee shop and practiced at the mall blossoming in the romantic setting. It’s almost painful how far away from her the round table keeps you. You try to find excuses to brush your fingertips against hers across the table. She’s so DTF. You want her as much as it feels like she wants you, but you’re not so wrapped up in her that you forget about Corey. You can’t keep yourself from looking in his direction, watching him as he watches you and Allyson. He’s the most talkative you’ve ever seen him, and for the first time you detect an accent to his voice. You can’t get a read on his vibe. He must be okay with you and Allyson, but is he interested in participating? You cross your fingers under the table in hopes that he is.

After dessert you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Allyson turns to Corey and puts her hand on his on the table.

“What do you think?” She asks.

“I like her,” he says.

“Do you like her enough to invite her to come home with us?”

Corey chews his lip. The server comes by and deposits the check on the table. Allyson pays.

“Are you sure she’s not just interested in you?” He asks when they’re alone at the table again.

“Corey, are you blind? She’s been making eyes at you more than me! I’m sure she’s interested in both of us.”

He looks away from her and bounces his leg for a second. Then he turns back to her. “Okay, let’s do it.”

You return from the bathroom to the table cleared. Corey and Allyson stand as you approach and start putting their coats on.

“We already paid,” Allyson says.

“You did? You didn’t have to do that,” you say, surprised.

“We wanted to,” she tells you simply.

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she reassures you. “Would you like to come back to our place?” She asks as you exit the restaurant.

Your heart flutters and between your legs pulses. Yes, yes, one million times yes. “Sure,” you say, trying to play it cool.

Corey goes to get their car from the valet.

“You can ride with us if you want. And we’ll bring you back to your car later.”

“Okay. Sounds good to me.”

The valet pulls the car to the front of the restaurant. Corey hands him cash, then gets in the driver’s seat and closes his door.

“Why don’t you sit in the front with Corey?” Allyson suggests.

You open the front passenger door and Corey smiles at you. You smile back as you slide into the car. Shoegaze music comes softly through the speakers. As Corey pulls out of the valet lane, Allyson leans forward behind you. She reaches over the back of your seat to put a hand on your shoulder. She caresses the side of your neck with her slender fingers. Then Corey reaches over to put a wide, freckled hand on your thigh, finally confirming he wants you too.

“Is this okay?” Allyson asks, her voice right behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you say, voice breathy. Holy shit, you think. Just having their hands on you like this is extremely erotic. Your heart pounds, thinking about all the ways they could gang up on you. Allyson’s hand slides up into your hair to massage your scalp with her short nails. You work hard to control your breathing, but as Corey starts to slide his hand up and down your thigh, you know they can hear what they’re doing to you.

Mercifully, the ride to their place is short. They live on the second floor and Corey takes the lead up the stairs. You follow him. From below you on the stairs, Allyson reaches out for your hand and you lace your fingers with hers for a few seconds. Inside their apartment you shrug your coat off and Allyson hangs it in the front closet with hers and Corey’s. You’re still so aroused from the car ride, but you’re nervous too. You’ve never had a threesome before but even with all your hoping tonight would lead to one, you don’t know what to expect. Your hands shake a little as you sit on the couch.

Allyson sits next to you, and Corey opts for an armchair to the side, resuming his role as watcher. You sit there awkwardly for a minute, with your knee touching Allyson’s, trying to gather the courage to make the move. Sensing your hesitation, she reaches out and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.You look at her and she smiles and you find the strength to lean in and kiss her.

If the air in the restaurant had crackled with the electricity between the two of you, the kiss is the bright flash and harsh sting of a static shock. A tiny, momentary explosion that only releases the tension for a split second. The more you kiss her, the more you need to kiss her, and the more she kisses you back. It’s messy and dizzying and so much fun. She scoots closer to you, then closer still, until you’re pressed against each other hard. Without speaking, you put your arms up over your head. She giggles and pulls your top off of you between kisses, much less carefully than in the dressing room.

Allyson reaches behind her own back and pulls the zipper on her dress down halfway. Your hands follow hers and you unzip her completely. She removes her arms from her sleeves and the top of the dress falls to her lap, then she stands halfway up so the dress drops to the floor, kissing you all the while. She sits with her back against the arm of the couch and spreads her legs, inviting you between them. You sit with one of her legs behind you and one in your lap. You rub your hand up and down the leg in your lap, enjoying her smooth skin and the toned muscle of her slender thigh. You hear Corey unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.Your breathing quickens.

You move your hand from Allyson’s leg to her tit. It’s a perfect, perky handful. You squeeze it gently and she moans into your mouth. Her hand comes over yours and she makes you squeeze harder. Your clit throbs with arousal. Keeping her hand on yours, Allyson guides you down from her chest to the waistband of her panties. You slip your hand under the elastic. She’s completely soaked. You slide your fingers up and down her slit before slipping between her labia to find the hard bud of her clit, rubbing a light circle around it when you do. Allyson throws her head back and whines. You kiss down her gracefully arched neck.

Corey groans softly. You turn your head to look at him. He’s slouched in the armchair, face flushed bright red and eyes almost black. His pants are pulled down just enough for you to see his hard, pink cock and dense reddish pubes. He’s undone another button on his shirt and he has one hand inside the opening. Allyson follows your gaze to Corey and he holds you both in his intense stare while you swirl your fingers slowly around the bundle of nerves between her legs.

Allyson makes the prettiest sounds as she starts getting closer, and you break eye contact with Corey to watch her face as she scrunches up her button nose in pleasure. She pulls you in for a kiss and as you kiss her you feel weight on the couch behind you. You expect to feel Corey’s hands on you, but he keeps them to himself as you pick up the pace of your fingers against Allyson’s clit. She reaches up to put her hand on your face as she climaxes, rocking her hips hard, pressing desperately against your hand. You work her all the way through it, feeling her twitch against you as the aftershocks come.

Finally you slip your hand out of her panties, slippery and shiny. She points over your shoulder and you turn toward Corey. He puts the fingers you used on Allyson in his mouth and sucks them clean, one by one. Then he pulls you in for a kiss, letting you taste her on his lips. Allyson shifts a little to make room for you, then pulls you against her. Your head rests on her chest and she lightly sets her chin on your crown. Corey tugs at the waistband of the bottoms you never removed. You bridge your hips off the couch and he pulls your underwear down at the same time. Then he drops his own pants and underwear. He’s already taken his shirt off and rolled a condom onto his cock, which twitches as he takes in the sight of you and Allyson laying together below him.

He kisses Allyson above you, then lowers himself to kiss you again. He laps against your lips with a hot tongue and you let him into your mouth. His hands knead your thighs while Allyson’s cup your tits. You’re so wet you feel like you must be dripping. Corey uses his grip on your thighs to push them towards your chest, opening you up, then lays his cock directly between your lips. You shudder in Allyson’s arms. She rolls one of your nipples delicately between her fingers.

Corey slides the length of his shaft against you, back and forth, top to bottom. You whimper and thrust your hips up every time the swollen head of his dick brushes your clit or catches just a little on your entrance until finally he slips it inside you. Your breath catches and you make a squeaking sound. They both giggle.

“That was so cute,” Allyson whispers in your ear just as Corey sinks the rest of his length into you.

You can’t believe you’re sandwiched between two of the hottest people you’ve ever seen. It exceeds your wildest dreams. As Corey thrusts in and out of you, Allyson runs her hands all over your body. Playing with your tits, dragging her fingertips up and down your sides, working her way down. She wedges a hand between you and Corey and starts to rub your clit. Your mind goes blank of every thought except for how good this feels. Some distant part of you knows you’re panting and moaning so loud the neighbors can probably hear you, but you don’t give a shit, and Corey and Allyson only encourage you.

“Say ‘fuck me, Corey,’” Allyson tells you, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “It drives him crazy.”

“Fuck me, Corey,” you plead. “Oh Corey, fuck me!”

It does drive him crazy, every time you repeat it he increases the speed and force of his thrusts, pounding you so hard you’d be worried about Allyson underneath you if she wasn’t having so much fun getting you to egg him on.

Detecting the change in your breathing indicating your impending orgasm, Allyson puts her lips to your ear again. “Tell him you’re gonna cum.”

“I’m gonna cum!” you wail. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, Corey, I’m… I’m…”

Your orgasm hits you like a truck as Allyson furiously rubs your clit and Corey slams into you. The way you clench around him pulls him over the edge with you and he groans deeply as he pushes into you one last time before stilling. The three of you pant, spent, for several minutes.

They don’t drive you back to your car. Instead they lead you to their bedroom. Corey lays in the middle of the bed and you and Allyson snuggle into his sides, holding hands across his toned stomach. None of you knows what the events of the evening mean. But you can worry about that, and your car, in the morning. Right now you just want to drift off to sleep in heaven.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #allyson nelson #allyson nelson x reader #corey cunningham x reader x allyson nelson #corey cunningham smut #bisexual!allyson nelson #halloween ends #mine #smut

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blackhakumen · 4 months

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Mini Fanfic #1166: No Pickles. (Scott Pilgrim)

It was nice, cheerful afternoon in Burger City restaurant located in the streets Toronto, Canada. The customers are enjoying the meals they've ordered and the cashier on front, named Kenny, is casually browsing on his phone, wondering what to do for the rest of the day once he'll finally leave out of here in the next hour or so.

Unfortunately for him and everyone else inside, the day of peace has come to a screeching halt as the loud, booming sound of the entrance door getting pushed open starts ringing into they're eardrums.

They turn to see three menacing looking figures walking in: a taller, muscular man wearing a leather jacket and a shirt that reads "No Fear" written in the front, a shorter man wearing glasses, a white jacket and a different colored "No Fear" shirt, and then comes their supposit ringleader standing in front of both of them, a young lady with glasses.....and a dissatisfied, livid look that could even make a wild bear cower away in fear just by looking at her wrong and too familiar with most customers as they instantly step away from the scene and potential chaos.

Because to them, she was more destructive Karen who could easily blow up the entire the area she stands on with one simple mistake to her direction, but to Kenny, there's just one name he intimidatly goes by due to.the amount of times she steps into this establishment in the past and that is.....

Kenny: Julie Powers......(Takes a Very Deep Breath Before Facing his Inevitable Fate Head On) Welcome back.........

Julie: Kenneth. (Slowly and Dangerously Walks Up to the Counter Raising a Single Eyebrow) I take it you have some idea as to why I decided to come back here.

Kenny: (Already Sweating Bullets. In Fear) Uhh.....To give this place a.....(Puts on A Very Awkward Smile on his Face) Good enough review in.....person?.....

Julie: ('Tch') Please. It'll be a hot day in Toronto before I even think about giving you simpletons a slightly average review. ('Sigh') No......I came back here to discuss why you put pickles on each of our burgers, after I.......(Angrily Slams her HaNds on the Counter) SPECIFICALLY told you not to F#%$ING DO SO!!

Kenny: Oh come on, man! I been in this counter all day today. (Points at the Kitchen Behind Him) I didn't know they messed up your order in here!

Employee: (Walking Out of the Kitchen While Chuckling) Hey yo, Kev! I gotta give you mad props for giving us the courage not to cave in and fix that crazy girl's ord......

Kevin quickly and frantically moves his hand from side to side beside his neck, imploring his fellow co-worker to be quiet.... All while tje crazy girl in question, turns her glare towards the employee in question, causing him to sweat bullets himself.

Employee: (Shakingly Points Back at the Kitchen) I-I-I'm gonna.....Go.....ba-(Quickly Goes Back to the Kitchen)

Julie: ('Groans in Annoyance') Whatever. Could I at least speak to your manager then? Before my patience depletes even further to the ground.

Kenny: 'Fraid I can't let you do that.

Julie: Why? He's not here or something?

Kenny: Oh no, he's here. He's been in his office all day watching tv- I-I mean! Finishing....a few paperworks he file or....something like that! And he really don't want anyone to interrupt his alone time, sooo.....(Suck the Air Through his Teeth While Awkwardly Looking Away) You're kinda out of luck on that one, chief. Sorry.

Julie: (Stares at the Cashier For a Brief Second Before Pinching the Bridge of her Nose and Takes a Very Deep Breath) I swear, of all the convoluted B#%#S%#t I have to put up with today.....

Kenny: Okay, seriously, how are you doing that with your mouth tight now?-

Julie: (Immediately Shuts Kenny Up and Scaring Him with her Yelling) NEVERMIND HOW I F$%$ING DO ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, SMARTA$#!! Now you listen here and now, I have been cooped up in that stupid coffee shop dealing with these S$%T for brains costumers all day today and....(Continues Ranting at Kenny While Everyone Else Watches in the Background)

Gordon: (Sighs Dreamingly T his Girlfriend While Standing Next to Lucas) Just look at her, Lucas. Isn't my Julie-Bear the most frightening woman all of Toronto?~

Lucas: Damn straight. I've seen my fair share of scary stuff in my years and she's DEFINITELY one of my Top 3.. (Forms a Genuine Smirk on his Face While Gently Ruffling the Top of Gordon's Hair a Bit) You've definitely scored big time there, little man.

Gordon: (Chuckles Ticklishly) Dude, come on!~ (Playfully Swats Lucas' Hand Off of His Hair) I just combed there not too long ago.

Lucas: (Chuckles a Bit) Right, sorry. But question though, how did you guys first meet? I tried to ask Julie about it during our lunch break earlier today, but our boss called her into the office at the least second. Said something about giving her a promotion or whatever?

Gordon: Oooh rewarding~ but to answer your question, we actually happened to attend the same high school together growing up. Hardly ever interacted with each other at the time. I was such a loser back then that I'm still surprise that she remembered me after all this time.

Lucas: What kind of loser ypu were exactly?

Gordon: The geek kind. The one who wasn't afraid of being rejected and looked down upon until reality kicks me in the face at the very last second. (Chuckles a Bit) Sounds pretty lame, doesn't it?

Lucas: (Casually Shrugs) Nah. It seems pretty cool to me. Except for the being rejected part obviously. That sucks.

Gordon: (Turns to Lucas) You think so?

Lucas: (Happily Nodded) Yeah. I mean, take it from a guy who was a punk jock who only ever started skateboarding because some girl he fell for and got his heartbroken by afterwards, taught him the basics. You were ten times more cooler than I could ever hoped for really.

Gordon: Don't say that, bro. Even with all hurdles and obstacles you've faced, you still managed to become the world pronoun movie star afterwards

Lucas: True. 'Till I flushed my entire career down the drain and became a washed up bum on the streets

Gordon: (Scoffs While Rolling his Eyes) Yeah, to them maybe. But to me.....(Turns Back to Lucas and Grab Hold of his Hands While His Eyes Begins to Sparkle) You'll always be #1 in my heart, bro~

Lucas: (Stares Back at His Best Friend with Sparkles in his Eyes as Well) Bro~

Kenny: (Staring at The Two Guys in the Mid Distance Along with Julie) Are they....staring deep into each other's eyes right now?

Julie: ('Sigh') Yeeup. Those two has became friends for a month or two now and they already became inseparable at this point....

Kenny: No offense to them or anything, but....those guys are dorks.

Julie: Abso-f#$%ing-lutely. (Slowly Starts Smiling at Lucas Now Giving Gordon a Nuggie) But they're my dorks. And one of the few people who actually gives a s$#t about me- (Notices What She's Saying Before Blushing and Turning Away Pouting) W-Whatever.

Kenny: (Stares at Julie For a Brief Second Before Sighing) Look, everyone at the back are too busy finishing online orders at the moment, so i can't grantee that they'll have any time to fix ypur order, but.....How about I give you guys each free smoothies instead?

Julie: (Turns Back to Kenny with a bit of a Raised Eyebrow) Free smoothies? You guys can do that here?

Kenny: (Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth) Not really, no. But it wouldn't feel completely right having you guys leave here empty handed. Plus, I......Kinda wanna make up for not having the others fix your order sooner, so......

Julie: Hm....That's depends......(Turns To her Boys) Hey! Dumb-Dumbs! You guys want some smoothies? They're giving them to us for free.

Gordon/Lucas: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) Sure, I want one./If it's free, I'll take it, yeah.

Julie: (Turns Back to Kenny) We'll take it.

Outside........

Lucas: (Walking Out of the Restaurant With Gordon and Julie Right Next to Him) So what made you wanna pick the free smoothies over a re-order there, Julie?

Gordon: ( Carrying his Drink on One Hand and Using the Other to Hold Julie's Hand) Yeah, you seemed so passionate about it, my dear. What changed your mind?

Julie: (Shrugs) Kenneth said the other workers already occupied with other orders, so I took his word for it, for now. Still, I refuse to take a single off of those pickle fested burgers they gave us.

Gordon: ('Sigh') Yeah......Suddenly, I'm not in the mood for burgers for the day. (Takes a Sip of his Smoothie Before Coming Up with An Idea) How about we order some pizza instead?

Julie: Fine. But we're only getting two boxes. I heard they're getting expensive these days......

Gordon: (Smiles Softly) I can order and pay them for us. It's the least I can do for making you go all the trouble to going back in there.

Julie: ('Sigh') You idiot. You haven't caused me any problems at all. (Starts Blushing a Bit) I only did what I did cuz I care.....

Gordon: (Chuckles Lightly) Yeah, I know. And I love you for it.

Julie: I love you f#%$ing more~ (Gives Her Boyfriend a Peck on the Lips)

Lucas: (Grabs his Chin While Thinking) I wonder if they have those pizzas with pineapples on them.......

Gordon: (Slowly Turns to His Best Friend with a Surprised and a Bit of a Grossed Out Look on his Face Along with Julie) Dude. You actually EAT those kinds of pizzas?

Lucas: Look, I know it's crazy, but I tried a slice or two in this summer beach party long while back and I remembered them not tasting all that bad.

Julie: ('Hmph') I believe it when I taste it.

Meanwhile Back at the Restaurant

Kenny: (Steching his Back Out) Okay......With those guys gone, I only have thirty more minutes and I'll finally be home free-

Manager: KENNNTH!!!

Kenny: ('Sigh') Or not.....

@tampire

@caleb13frede

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

@cyber-wildcat

@scottpilgrim

#scott pilgram takes off #julie powers #gideon graves #gordon goose #lucas lee #humor #fluff #bromance #gideon x julie #gideon and lucas are best bros #gideon julie and lucas trio

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danikatze · 11 months

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Muddle

a multi-chapter Saraiya Goyou fic

[ID in alt text]

Chapter 1: What the Hell was the Hurry

Summary: The Five Leaves decide to leave Edo with Masa and Yaichi. Ume and Okinu are the first to arrive in their new home town, soon followed by Matsu. While Ume wants to give "opening up" a try, Matsu struggles with Feelings more than ever. An unexpected relationship develops between the two.

Read it on AO3 - or read it here:

Matsu arrived in town much, much sooner than Ume expected.

At the moment he and Okinu left Edo, heading for the place the Five Leaves had decided to try and make their new home, Matsu was still frantically running around (that is to say, walking everywhere much faster than a short guy like him should realistically be able to do) trying to get things done before his own departure.

The news that Matsu was closing up shop and moving someplace else must've spread like wildfire. The day after the Five Leaves agreed to leave Edo with Masa and Yaichi, there was a small, but undeniable queue of servants from rich families in front of his row house. Some he could please with the few hairpins or pipes that were still lying around and wanted to get rid of before moving anyway. The others placed more specific orders.

Otake, Ginta and Matsu still hung out at Ume's place while Ume and Okinu were preparing to leave, and every time Matsu was there he heartily complained about the orders. He hadn't declined any that Ume was aware of. Matsu was not good at refusing clientele.

Ume and Okinu were the first to start their trek to their potential new hometown, and, predictably, they were also the first to reach their destination. The two were planning to stay at an inn and explore the town from there. Miraculously, they found a vacant row house within mere hours of their arrival.

On her trip to the market the next day, at the end of the afternoon, Okinu spotted Matsu in the crowd. She was shocked to see him: not only did she not expect him to be there yet, he looked exhausted. As usual Matsu insisted that he was fine and asked her directions to the nearest inn. Okinu didn't believe it for one second, and dragged him home with her without completing her shopping.

As soon as Matsu stepped into the row house he collapsed. He was burning up and slept for nearly a full twenty-four hours.

Ume managed to get water and tiny amounts of porridge into Matsu in moments of sort of consciousness. Still, when Matsu finally woke up fully, he was craving food. His fever had gone down, but he looked pretty worse for wear still: he was very pale, his eyes were puffy and the fact that he hadn't shaved for almost two days didn't really help him. He was usually so presentable, which made this sight all the more concerning. It actually reminded Ume of the time Masa just rescued Matsu, after being held in the storage room of that candle maker for a few days. At the very least he didn't have any injuries this time.

Ume made him an elaborate meal, with a little help from his neighbours. They were already quite friendly to Ume, thanks to Okinu. He always let her introduce herself first, and made sure she mentioned he raised her on his own. Ume wasn't really comfortable taking the credit for that. She'd done so much of it herself, somehow. It was a really good ice-breaker, though. People were always much less scared of him when they knew that he'd single-handedly raised such a lovely girl.

"So hey," Ume stepped into the row house with a pot of tea that his elderly neighbour on the right made for them. Ume waited a moment for a sign of acknowledgement from Matsu. It did not come because he was too busy scarfing down the contents of one of many bowls Ume put in front of him ten minutes prior. It went in so fast Ume was unable to discern what exactly it was. Ume continued anyway: "did you do the impossible and say 'no' to your customers?"

Matsu put the empty bowl away and grabbed a grilled fish with his chopsticks. Before he himself seemed to realize it, he'd taken a big bite. He held up a hand, asking for Ume's patience. After a moment it appeared that he didn't have any patience himself, because he just moved the fish inside his cheeks so he could reply.

"Nah," Matsu said, then, realising his cheeks could not contain all the fish while talking, attempted to swallow a portion of his large bite and seemingly hurt himself in the process. With a strained expression he thumped his chest a few times, as if that would make the food go down easier, and continued with a tight voice, "I just kinda hid from people at some point, so I could finish everything in time."

"In time?" Ume placed two cups on the floor, and started to pour out the tea, but paused to squint suspiciously at Matsu. "For what?"

"Didn't wanna take longer than a week, or -- ow," Matsu now attempted to swallow a chunk of rice that apparently did not fit down his throat. Ume waited calmly - and judgmentally - for Matsu to get it down and start breathing normally again.

"- or I would've been stuck in Edo forever," Matsu finally finished his sentence.

Ume tried doing the maths in his head - this just obviously didn't add up. Admittedly, he and Okinu hadn't exactly rushed their journey, but they didn't make a leisurely trip of it either. The whole thing had taken them over two weeks.

If Matsu really did leave a week after them, that meant he'd done it in a week and a half.

Ume looked at Matsu, just woken up from sleeping pretty much twenty-four hours straight. He saw the bags under Matsu's eyes and the amount of food that he was currently consuming, and suddenly started to get very annoyed indeed. He sat up straight and crossed his arms. If Matsu noticed, he didn't show it: he only had eyes for the food before him.

"And you made the deadline?" Ume asked, hoping Matsu would say he finished everything sooner than he thought.

"By a hair," Matsu said, casually.

"What the hell was the hurry, you idiot?!" Ume failed miserably at staying calm. It was the indifference that really pissed him off. "Did you even sleep or eat?"

"Of course I did," Matsu's glower would almost be endearing if it hadn't been preceded by one of those infuriating eye rolls. To make matters worse Matsu decided to add, "I just didn't waste time on a bunch of hour long breaks in between, like you guys probably did."

"I'll have ya know that I didn't practically drop dead at our doorstep when we got here," Ume fumed, "and neither did my kid!"

"Good for you," grumbled Matsu, while stuffing some more rice in his face. "Anyway its none of your business how I travel."

"Oh yeah?" Ume laughed incredulously, "well then, in that case feeding you is none of my business either, lemme clear everything away for you."

"Don't --" Matsu practicality threw himself over the food that surrounded him, to shield it from Ume, "- touch anything."

His pale face flushed with embarrassment, although it didn't stop him from grabbing a bowl of miso and slurping it down as soon as Ume turned away in a huff.

Ume's blood was boiling, but he was really not in the mood for any of the bickering that he and Matsu normally liked to engage in. He was pretty tired from the trip himself, despite taking all the necessary rest stops at the roadside, in addition to the longer breaks they took for food and sleep. The first night they spent in their new place, it knocked both him and Okinu out for about two hours longer than usual.

Ume looked over at Matsu and narrowly avoided snorting at him. Matsu scowled so hard that his eyes almost vanished in his frown. A smile formed on Ume's face before he remembered that he was, in fact, still angry.

Well.. no, he wasn't in the mood for that either. And maybe it wasn't really fair to go all parental on a grown man who managed to run a successful business for a good while back in Edo.

He's so bad at taking care of himself though!

His anger subsided, but got the urge to make Matsu feel a bit self-conscious with a fun little snarky remark. Y'know, a little reward for not arguing.

"I'm impressed you still manage to get food in there, the way you're scrunching up your face," he said, with a self-satisfied grin.

"I'm impressed you- you're..," Matsu faltered, "Shut up, I'm exhausted.."

Ume's grin broadened. Matsu turned into such a pubescent teenager whenever Ume went into dad mode. He looked at the few signs of age on Matsu's face, and wondered how old he could be. In his thirties probably? None of the Five Leaves knew any of the other's ages, and they never asked. Ume didn't ask this time either. Instead, he collected some empty bowls to wash up, and left Matsu to simmer down a bit as well.

When Ume returned Matsu had cleared out all the dishes and was stretched out on the floor with his hands on his stuffed belly. At the sound of the door sliding open and Ume stepping in, Matsu lazily looked over, his head lolling to the side. After following Ume with his gaze for a bit, and Ume pretending he didn't notice while collecting more bowls, Matsu sighed.

"Thanks, Ume," he said.

"My pleasure. I like cooking," Ume presented the empty bowls, "and seeing people enjoy my food."

"I didn't mean the food," Matsu stared at the ceiling, and patted his belly, "although, thanks for that as well."

"Then what?" "Dunno,"

Matsu shrugged, "for worrying, I guess."

"Oh," this took Ume by surprise. He hadn't expected Matsu to cool down this much, "yeah, no problem. I have years of worrying experience, raising a sickly kid by myself and all." He laughed a bit and then added in a quasi stern tone, "She was never as damned reckless as you were, thank fuck."

"Hah," Matsu covered his eyes with his hands, groaning, "Masa used the same word to describe me ages ago. I should really do something about that."

It took Matsu a few more days to really get back on his feet again. If it were up to him he would've set out to find a place to stay for himself the very same day he woke up. Ume wouldn't hear of it, and made Matsu rest until he felt fit for at least one full day.

He didn't trust Matsu to be honest about that, but he was fairly good at evaluating someone's well-being. He'd been through too many instances of Okinu claiming she was better, and her falling ill again the next day. Once he started implementing his a-full-day-fit rule, she experienced much fewer relapses.

Matsu grumbled about it a lot and then, to Ume's great surprise and suspicion, put up a lot less resistance than he had prepared for. Ume kept an eye on Matsu as much as he could, and the only way to achieve that was to have Matsu take part in Ume's chores and other activities. As time went on it seemed that Ume didn't need to be distrustful of Matsu's compliance. In fact, if Ume hadn't known any better, he would have said Matsu enjoyed being forced into slowing down.

In the meantime Okinu used her charms to find a place for Matsu to live. In no time at all she managed to get half of her neighbourhood either keeping an eye out, or actively searching for a vacant row house. By the time Ume allowed Matsu to go free, he could move into one that was only a fifteen minute walk away from Ume's - or probably ten minutes at Matsu's pace.

Ume started looking for a building that would be suitable for an izakaya, because his little row house of course wouldn't do. That didn't stop him from providing his neighbours with home cooked snacks and (side) dishes. A bit of advertisement for his as of yet non-existent izakaya. He didn't have much luck yet though. Not that he expected to find something after being there for only a week or so, but he was a bit jealous of Matsu, as unlike him, he would easily be able to set up his business from a row house.

#Saraiya Goyou #House of Five Leaves #I posted a link to chapter 1 yesterday but I don't like the post? It's messy so let's try again #who knows how many chapters there will be lol #I'll post chapter 2 later (it's already on ao3) and I started writing chapter 3 and 4 #right now it looks like there'll be like six or seven idk #I'm not known for writing fanfic so I will not be surprised if this doesn't get many hits #or sad even - I'm just glad I'm writing it down #I made so many notes and connecting the dots is super satisfying (and hard)#it's mostly me getting my post canon hcs down on paper in a comprehensible - and hopefully nice to read - way #Matsukichi #Umezou #UmeMatsu #fanfiction #muddle fic

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morroodle · 2 years

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Kai's Monstrous Nightmare

Dragon origins pt. 7/7

Finally done. Now I can write shenanigans!

Drawn in by heavy smoke, Kai was very confused when a monstrous nightmare landed on his lawn seemingly out of nowhere. After getting over the initial shock, he realized it was not there to eat him and began trying to shoo it away, not wanting it to scare off potential customers. Unfortunately for him the dragon was less intimidated and more amused by the flailings of a tiny scaleless hatchling, and without warning it grabbed Kai by the back of his shirt, plopped him down somewhere safe (the roof) and started trying to make a nest. Kai attempted to stop it with more screaming and flailing, and finally got smart enough to chuck one of his many weapons at the dragon, successfully scaring it off (or so he thought). What actually happened, from the dragons perspective, was more of a "I can do this by myself dad!" "Ok kiddo" type situation. The monstrous nightmare kept an eye on Kai over the next few days, and while Kai noticed he never really did much about it. Eventually Kai wanted to light a fire to warm the shop a bit, but it had rained recently and he wasn't having much luck with kindling. Lucky for him, there's a giant fire breathing lizard just outside who is very eager to help.

From there, Kai realized that having a dragon hanging around might not be the worst thing, and a cautious friendship was formed. It wasn't until Kai started blacksmithing again that his new friend would prove just how useful they could be, creating a perfect fire for melting metal and gaining their name; Forge (very creative he knows).

In the beginning, Nya was terrified of Forge, even after Kai befriended them. She would usually just hide, stealing glances at the dragon when she could but ducking back into her hiding place before she was spotted. Eventually Forge noticed, and decided to act on it. Clearly this scaleless hatching was just shy, so they would show they were friendly by bringing gifts! Why is the hatchling crying? They brought them a full deer to eat (fsm know these babies need it, they're tiny!)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago au #ninjago httyd au #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #ninjago fanfiction #monstrous nightmare

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kurjakani · 2 years

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Character interactions with Sirppi the near ganic runner pt 1

Just sm random thoughts abt canonical characters from cpunk meeting Sirppi & the dynamics bcs Im sleepy and just thinking abt what I could do with this AU 😴😴 for context, this is an oc insert au for Sirppi, not a V for the game, just sm silly stuff!!! I'll make an another for the AI Mona too but a lil later...

Misty — they would 1000% be a repeat customer. Sirppi isn't particularly spiritual, but they would find comfort in the calm of her shop, and get fairly regular tarot readings from her to clear their mind. I think they could be near friends too, to be honest. Sirppi is a little distant and hesitant so there would be some difficulty, but especially after the loss of Jackie, I think they would really reasonate with Misty and find joy in spending time with her, in silence or otherwise.

Viktor Vector — I think with some research (maybe help from Nix? He has sm familiarity w older tech so shrug emoji) Viktor could prolly work w Sirppis ancient cyberware, anddd they could really get along. Sirppi loves scary people, but Viktor has a sense of safety about him; they would circle around him from time to time, nibble at that comfort, run away like a scared cat but come for pats and scratches from time to time.

Panam, Saul, other Aldecaldos — tight as bunch!!!!! Sirppi wouldn't really count as a nomad, but would be very near to that, and would probably have a lot to do with nomad groups. There would prolly be some hesitation there of course, "why is this kid on their own", but I think their connections to other nomad groups (their own ripper is a nomad from further away) & their independant spirit would help them get along w others. Shyly running to them like a kid who recognizes family members in a crowd. Would get in trouble with Panam, though would be more embarrassed and bashful about it. Would be particularly interested in hanging out with the vets- not really for war stories but for stories about life alongside the war. Would hide behind the vets when panam is scolded by saul 🙄

Goro Takemura — i am trying SO hard to figure out how this would work- they would be SO funny, because they have kinda the same like... personality but exact opposite ideals? Sirppi is about freedom and anarchy, Goro is about loyalty and corpo pride, but they're both kinda goofy, sweet, weird, very genuine/earnest.... cannot think of a way that Goro would meet some weird scruncly courier. Maybe during cpunk2077 events, it'd have to be.... eating at the same place every night, Sirppi is the first person 2 be nice & polite to him in the city and they just hang out and Sirppi has NO idea who he is bcs they don't watch the news nor do they keep up w corpo chatter. They would talk abt food for hours, Sirppi would be so miffed about his pickiness, they would show him some weird recipes like putting cereal between toast and horrify him. They would be so funny I love them. Maybe thats the start of nomad Goro au?

Judy — Sirppi would have an aversion 2 braindances, as they would remind them of having tech in their head- and, they'd never be satisfied by them. Their favourite sensation is driving along a long stretch of land with no end in sight; only there they feel belonging, and nothing else compares. They're also kinda... grey ace/demisexual, and rarely into sex, so they would feel a little bad about not understanding a lot of what Judy does. However, if those two did talk- they could definetly bond over the feeling of missing/yearning for something lost, and what could have been... don't think there's like huge crossover potential for them tho???

Royce, Dum Dum, other Maelstroms — babygirll they would hang out w Maelstroms on ACCIDENT before being infortmed how DANGEROUS THEY ARE. Near ganic little thing, who's uncertain and says the weirdest shit, looks at u like ur cool when YOU say the weirdest shit... most likely possibility being becoming an experiment in a maelstrom rippers room BUT THATS NO FUN and the funner option is, them stumbling into Totentanz and SOMEHOW ending up next to Royce NO IDEA WHO HE IS chattering endlessly about the pros and cons of augmentation as the complete opposites of the argument (though Sirppi has nothing against augmentation, they just can't take it themself). Honestly, I ship them, kinda, kinda not, don't think Sirppi would have genuine interest in Royce but it'd be cute if he had the most non-hardcore cool guy crush on them, like the least badass little hearts above his head kinda thing.... again,.im just drawn 2 whatever is the funniest option here, and royce following around some weird gangly whirlwind who doesn't get the hint from the most straightforward machissimo guy on earth is funny.

Ozob Bozo — sirppi would IDOLIZE this idiot. He's both horrifying AND chill and makes the WORST jokes. Sirppi would be ALL googoo oogle eyes and actually talk so they could get him to talk and make his stupid jokes. I don't even know how they could meet, literally however, maybe more taxi services for Ozob, Sirppi would not be able to help him with any of his murder and they would yell at him for it but. They would also b like ah hehe twirls hair u r kinda funny tho so.

#cyberpunk 2077 #kaniocs #kaniocsirppi #long post #on mobile so i cabt readmore pls dont murder me

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robinsnest2111 · 1 year

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🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them? for both the band boys and your klokateer ocs, i think it's interesting since they're all music-related in their concept to see that expanded

ohhhh that's so difficult actually lmao

even tho they're all connected to music in some way, I've never really spent much time thinking about their potential playlists!

Okay, so. Way back in the very beginning when I created my metal boys I was super into Ghost BC around when the Square Hammer mv came out, so they were inspired by some select songs.

To honour these origins, I feel like Lukas would have a lot of Ghost songs on his playlist. He'd be into Judas Priest, Guns N Roses and DIO as well, Lordi, maybe some Powerwolf? Anything mystical and dark and spooky and powerful, really. To match his obsession with the Occult/Supernatural stuff.

Simon's playlist would have a lot of Rammstein (a nod to me literally growing up on that band lol), various Death Metal titles, some Nirvana, Soundgarden, other grunge-y hardrock type bands; and some scene/emo type songs (most by his favourite band HanahaKiss ofc) but he's a bit embarrassed about it nowadays. He keeps the songs on there for nostalgia reasons tho (and for occasionally daydreaming about his rockstar teenhood crush Elo hehe)

Raphael used to be really into scene/emo type music and his biggest dream came true when he joined his then-boyfriend's band HanahaKiss to play that kind of music himself! Now, he has totally distanced himself from it all due to the bad memories. He's into more gentle mystical type music: like Florence + the Machine, Aurora (mostly her All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend album), some Kate Bush, the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, the Amélie soundtrack, etc. Basically anything he can get away with playing at the flower shop without scaring away his customers lol

One song in particular makes me think of young Raphael/Elo: Where's My Angel by Metro Station

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For Rapunzel I think I already answered a while ago he'd be really into bubbly pop music (à la Gwen Stefani's Love.Angel.Music.Baby album, another childhood favourite of mine lol) as well as some very heavy growly metal!

Martin hasn't been around long enough for me to associate certain music with him, and since his main thing as a character is Being Suicidally Depressed, I don't think he'd actually listen to much if any music in that state :') Maybe once he has more reasons to stay alive, his coworkers could get him into more music! He is a diehard Dethklok fan tho (from way before his depression got so bad, his sole reason to join as a Klokateer instead of ending it) so I guess he'd have the 3 Dethalbums on his playlist for sure!

#anaalnathrakhs #ask robin #my ocs #lukas (oc)#simon (oc)#raphael (oc)#rapunzel (mtl oc)#martin (mtl oc)#thank you so much for asking about my babies!!!! 😊💕💕💕#i really need to work on actual playlists for them soon lol

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deathfavor · 1 month

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@ofluminance said: [ see ] / from takemichi to hanma! it's a picture of a sunset and it reminds michi of hanma's eyes and now me and michi are emo ;__;

prompts for ordinary things that feel intimate [ see ] sender sees something that reminds them of receiver and texts them a picture of it

Hanma sits in the back corner of a ramen shop, away from prying eyes and the front of the shop where his unnerving figure might scare off potential customers. He doesn't mind it though. He prefers these shadowed corners where he's less likely to be bothered Not to mention that he can usually lurk in the back for a while and wander off whenever he eventually feels like it.

He's eating his third bowl when his phone unexpectedly vibrates in his pocket and diverts his attention from shoveling more food into his mouth. After a second, he pulls out his phone and glances at the screen curiously. There's really only a handful of people it could be assuming it isn't a wrong number text. ( And truly, they suffered the most because Hanma took great joy in running wild with those poor unfortunate souls. ) Instead of that though, he sees Takemichi is the one who sent him a text with a picture attached.

So naturally the reaper opens it without any hesitation or debate.

It's a pretty decent photo for an amateur. Although it was the sort of thing that seemed more like something to send to just about anyone else other than the reaper. Then again, Takemichi was so obviously whipped that he supposed it made sense. The text that follows up the picture only confirms his suspicions. He snorts to himself, stuffing the bite of ramen into his mouth before he decides to text back.

[To: Takemichi 🌟 - Status: SENT- 6:51 p.m.] Didn't know you took up photography. It's a good picture.

With that sent, he ponders his move for a moment. And then he grins, flipping the phone around to take a selfie of himself with the ramen and empty ramen bowls. Very Hanma-esque to do, really. He checks it to make sure it looks good before he sends it and turns back to his food.

[To: Takemichi 🌟 - Status: SENT- 6:53 p.m.] :) [IMAGE ATTACHED]

#ofluminance #he's surprised pikachu when he gets texts honestly #he's got like 3 maybe 4 ppl who text #᛭ — [IC] death follows in the wake of the reaper [SHUJI HANMA]#᛭ — [QUEUE] ghosts of the past and of the future

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the-artistic-mg · 2 years

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Confessions From a Merchant #1: Meet Murv

We all like to think we're the hero of our own story. We go on a quest,collect our experiences along the way,and we expect to have a big celebration of our accomplishments after it's all over.

But what about the people who help out those heroes to begin with? What's their story caught in between those epics?

Well,this is where my story begins.

I'm Murv and I'm better known to some as the merchant in the land of Ever Green. Throughout my past travels,I have had many unconventional adventures. Some stories I have are mundane,some are fun,and others were horrifying. I like to refer to them all as myself being young and dumb though.

As I grow older and reflect back on them,I want to put them all in writing. For these reasons,I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm drawn to the idea of getting everything off my chest. Maybe I want young adults who are the age I was in these tales to learn from my experiences. There's no definitive answer I have right now,but one thing is certain that these existed at one point in time and I lived through them as fate aligned them.

I left home long ago to pursue a business adventure that was new and exciting for me.

Leaving was scary. I didn't feel connected to the idea of staying in one place. At least,not to one specific place. I wanted what many young adults desired. I wanted independence.

It took me awhile to get the hang of my traveling business. But once I planned out a strategy for it,I found my footing eventually. My work consisted of walking into the nearest human villages of Ever Green in the hopes of setting up shop temporarily there.

Why humans? Well,they were the most desperate beings with the most to spend. Humans are egotistical creatures. You sell them a magical idea in the form of potions and gems that only they think they can conquer,and you got yourself something to profit off. What I sold to them were never lies though. They were more like elaborate truths.

Take for instance,if I've obtained a potion. If someone drinks it,they are healed but develop a radioactive skin barrier for awhile. I wouldn't want to scare away potential buyers from it. I would instead,say "This potion heals you and will temporarily illuminate your path on your most darkest journey." And to really seal the deal,I would be sure to only present it at night in the darkest desperate hours closest to the woods. When you're a merchant after all,presentations are key to keeping your business afloat.

While it's dangerous to put together such unstable elixirs and manage them through treacherous locations,all of that compares to nothing like customer service,the worse of them all.

I hate it when returning customers reunite with me at the local taverns. I would go there to rest and occasionally partake in fun drinks,but sometimes and if not almost often my sanctuary would turn into lines of people with horrible attitudes.

They would constantly complain about the quality of my merchandise,exclaiming "You said this elixir is berry flavored! It has blueberry,raspberry,and strawberry but why didn't you put cherry?!" or "You said I can have a free sample! Why won't you give me another one?! I needed extra to test it out and see if I like it or not!" the usual loud nonsense like that. But even after I do my best to explain these 'complaints' to them,they threaten to go to the knights nearby the kingdom. That's when I offer them their refunds back so I don't get caught by his royal highness and his henchmen in chrome armor.

It can be almost always a vicious cycle living your life as a merchant. Most I know always end up being corrupted from it. Yes,I admit my faults but until you see for yourself how cruel the others are or were in the business,I am probably seen as a saint in comparison.

While others in my profession have a goal of buying their way into the most fancy gated kingdom here or even above,my motives have always been simple. My whole young adult life,I wanted nothing more than to live up to where the mountains stood.

Pass the green fields,through the woods,and over the rivers,they stand tall. Isolated yet spacious. Cool yet warm,filled with hidden treasures. Some mountains hide trinkets and others hide cozy cabins that have not been claimed. And that's what I dreamed of.

You now have probably wondered,have a ever found what I was searching for? Well,just like the treasures in the mountains,I'll let you see if I can let you find them in these stories forward. For now,this is where we leave our first trinket found.

This is a very short read. Consider this an introduction to a character driven fantasy narrative I have in mind for awhile and I hope to make more future stories relating to this soon. I had a lot of fun getting back into writing after so long. I am now ready to share more stories in the future on DeviantArt,Tumblr,and maybe Commaful too.-M.G.

#Short Writing #short story #fantasy story #character story #my story #creative writing #my short story #My writing #writerscommunity

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

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Happy Engagement

Relationship: Loki x Reader Warnings: contains some dark elements: manipulation Summary: Loki has always thought of you as his and there isn’t anything he won’t do to keep it that way. A/N: I’ve been sitting on this one shot for a while! I had the idea for it months ago and finally wrote it and then it just sat on my computer while I wrote other stuff but I figured since I don’t have anything really new this week it’d be perfect to put out! I hope you enjoy it because I greatly do :)

Masterlist

Loki had always been an interesting force in your life.

You two met when you were just children in school. You two were the official unofficial outsides of your school year — he was a prince, you were a peasant. Despite his royal standing, he’d play with you at recess. For these outlier ways, you two never interacted much with the other kids, life practically forcing you two to one another.

At such a young age, you hadn’t realized how significant this bond would become. As a child, you were just glad someone was talking to you. He shouldn’t have even been looking at you, should’ve maybe been disgusted with your presence alone. You should’ve been some onlooker, amazed by him and his magic but you weren’t — well, except for the magic part. His magic was little when you were kids but it drew quite the amazement from you.

Over time, you two naturally grew with one another. From childhood into your teens and still, now, you two made an unlikely pair of best friends as young adults. All of this though did not come without some bumps along the way.

In your teens, Loki had almost completely shut you out. For some reason, he seemed to be acting embarrassed by you. Your mother had warned you this may happen but you thought he was different, swore he was, unless his sincerity was like the many other tricks he played. Eventually, supposedly after some talking down from his brother, Loki appeared back at your door asking if you wanted to go for a walk.

This disappearing and coming back had become a habit for him over his teenage years and into adulthood. Loki never explicitly told you why but you could tell there was something eating away at him. It had been there a long time and it felt like disassociating himself with you was his solution.

You thought everything was coming to an abrupt end when you fell pregnant. You had been seeing a nobleman who was a regular customer in your parents’ shop. He was absolutely charming and delightful, practically swept you right off your feet within minutes of meeting. Your parents were ecstatic when he asked to court you.

You yourself were stunned but you ran to tell Loki about it. He was speechless. You tried telling him about the man but something in Loki snapped. He got unreasonably upset, spewing hateful comments about the man, practically forcing you out of his chambers in the process. He went radio silent again.

You tried to ignore losing your best friend — again — and focused on your new relationship. He wooed you endlessly with dates to lavish dinners and dawning you in lovely gowns. It was all so much more than you had ever expected in life. He’d tell you you deserved it and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you two would get so lost in one another.

A bit shamefully, hypnotized by the romantics of it all, you gave yourself to him. Tangled in the sheets with him as your guide, you let the man you felt you would marry have every last bit of you.

And for a while after, it was blissful. Nothing had seemed to change between you two until he announced he had to go away for a bit. Confused, you asked why suddenly now facing the fact you were losing another person in your life. He explained he was needed by his father on a different realm, part of the family "business," as he described it.

Days after his departure, you learned you were pregnant. Around this time, Loki popped back up in your life. You felt relieved having someone to confide in but when you told him of your pregnancy, he was far from the supportive force you thought you’d get. He didn’t yell or get upset per se but he was beyond stunned.

He left for a bit then but can back in less time than last. This time he brought along baby supplies and congratulated you. It was a complete one-eighty from his prior behavior but you accepted it, gratefully. Loki ended up being your main person throughout the pregnancy as clues of when your boyfriend would return were nonexistent.

"Did he know you were carrying his child when he left?" Loki had asked you one night. You two were sitting in the living room of the makeshift house you had acquired. You didn’t feel very good that this was the home you were bringing a child into when you knew her father could’ve provided her with a better one. But, at the end of the day, it was a roof over both your heads.

You crocheted another knot in the baby blanket. "No, he didn’t. I didn’t even know."

Loki gave a passing hum at that answer. He didn’t ask about your boyfriend very much after that.

Once your baby girl arrived, she became your entire world, your entire focus. Between caring for her and working to provide, you had little time to worry about your boyfriend still being gone. But it wasn’t as lonely as it may have looked because Loki was always by your side. Working around his royal duties, he’d take time to come visit you and your daughter even sometimes staying for dinner or to play with her. You didn’t miss how he was unintentionally becoming the father she was missing. You never said anything, though, always biting your tongue as you waited for her father to return.

Hope began to face on that front after your daughter turned three. Maybe he was just a footnote in your life, a foolish hopeful dream, but at least he had given you the lovely gift of your child. You weren’t giving up, still placing him in the boyfriend spot of your mind, but you couldn’t deny doubt crept in. Maybe a relationship of any capacity just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Or so you thought.

As Loki continued with his royal responsibilities, he was growing older and more powerful. That’s when the rumors of marriage began floating about. Your mother had brought it up to you once asking if you met any of his potential suitors. Your stomach did a somersault. You didn’t even know there were suitors, let alone met any of them. You tried to keep your cool and just told her no.

Who these suitors were and if they really existed, you never found out. You never even had the guts to ask about them especially after Loki pulled you aside one night after a dinner at the palace.

He rarely ever invited you to dinners with his family so to get this spontaneous invitation, you didn’t hesitate to attend. He even allowed you to bring along your daughter. She was playing with some servants’ children when Loki asked you to the garden.

"Feeling like a nighttime stroll?" You asked with a little laugh. Loki just smiled.

"There’s actually something I want to speak to you about."

"Oh," you frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Loki nodded. "Yes, yes, everything is fine." He looked up at the sky, almost lost in thought as you walked. You thought for a split second how lovely he looked. "I’m sure you have heard by now the…talk about my anticipated engagement."

Your heart practically stopped beating at that moment. Your hands instinctively gripped at the skirt of your dress as if you were ready to run away at the drop of a hat. Trying to keep your voice stead, you said, "Yes, I believe my mother mentioned that to me the other day."

He shot you an unreadable side glance. Your hands gripped the fabric tighter. Why were you feeling like this? Was that…jealousy you felt? You didn’t understand where that had come from. This was your best friend. Your prince best friend. He was bound to get married and have a lavish life with his bride. You couldn’t stop that, you couldn’t change it.

"Do you know anything of the women I have been offered?"

Was this another one of his cruel jokes? You wanted to vomit all over the bushes of flowers passing you as you walked. You managed to shake your head in response. "I’m sure they’re all wonderful."

He scoffed. "More like they’re all incredibly boring."

You gasped, "Loki, I’m not sure you should be speaking that way of them."

"It’s doesn’t matter," he shrugged, "because none of them are what I want."

You didn’t know if you actually wanted to know what he was seeking. You looked at him wearily.

You two walked in silence for a moment. Loki was now watching the ground intensely. You couldn’t believe how much his gaze was wandering. It must’ve been for courage because the next words out of his mouth were ones you had never thought you’d ever hear. From anyone.

"I believe you could be what I want," he said. He spoke your name so softly. "I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage."

You stopped walking, your legs suddenly unable to move. Your eyes grew wide as complete shock raced over you. You didn’t know what to do, too scared to speak because you didn’t know what was going to come out. Your first thought was that this was one of his magic tricks. Maybe he wasn’t even here, just a clone of him as he wished to make a fool of you. It wouldn’t be the first time but he had never been so cruel.

"You’re not saying anything," Loki noted. He had stopped a few feet ahead of you, completely taken off guard by your halt.

"I-I don’t understand." The words felt so heavy forcing their way out of your mouth.

"I don’t believe I stuttered, dear."

Your jaw dropped, surprised it hadn’t hit the floor already. He was seriously asking this. Loki, a literal prince, and your best friend, was asking for your hand in marriage. But — But you just didn’t know why. Why would he ask such a thing? Not only were you an unwed mother, he knew very well about your boyfriend. It was almost insulting he’d think you’d give up just because business or whatever it was was taking a while. You didn’t even want to begin to think about what this could all mean for your daughter.

"Loki… I… I don’t know. This seems crazy—,"

"Crazy?" His expression turned dark. You suddenly regretted the word despite it holding true. "What is so crazy about me wanting to take your hand? I thought this could be good. You and your daughter would have everything you’d ever want. You’d be a princess for crying out loud!"

You flinched at his anger. You had never seen him so enraged before. It made your whole body stiffen.

"I see. This… This is very generous of you but my boyfriend…"

Loki chuckled but there wasn’t any humor found within it. "Of course. The nobleman." He rolled his eyes. "Tell me again, dear, how long has it been? Do you really think he’s going to just show back up one day?"

"Of course," you nodded. "He told me—,"

"He’s not coming back."

You began shaking your head, growing more and more upset as the seconds passed. "You don’t know that."

Loki sighed, defeatedly. "I do know that, dear." A heavy pause. "I know that because I’m the one that sent him away."

You were certain in that moment your heart had stopped. Everything had stopped. You could barely tell anymore how you got from point A to point B.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

"What I mean is I’ve had my eye on you for a long time," he explained. He was standing so tall making you feel minuscule. "I always thought you could be just right for me but then that nobleman waltzed into your life. Granted, he wasn’t me. He couldn’t give you what I could but he tried his best." Loki shrugged. "I had no choice, really. He threatened everything. He derailed my plan but it’s alright. I think after tonight it’ll be back on track, correct?"

You held your hands up in defense, practically begging Loki to slow down. Your head was spinning. "You sent away the father of my child?"

Loki sighed, sounding actually regretful. "Truly, that wasn’t ever my intention. I didn’t know he was going to do that."

"And you think since you forced him out of the picture, you can swoop in and ask for my hand in marriage? We never had a courtship! Are you even hearing yourself?"

"I’m a prince, darling." He sounded so casual. "We do not court like the rest of you."

Gosh, you felt like you were going to vomit. Your hands fell to your stomach as you tried to calm yourself. You had never heard Loki separate you two so clearly before. Like he had drawn a line, definitively.

Your words tasted like venom as you forced yourself to speak. "Can I at least think about it?"

"I’m afraid not. They’d like an answer tonight."

Tonight. That was what this dinner had been for. You weren’t invited just out of the kindness of his heart. You had been attending your own engagement party.

"Loki, this… I— This is insane. You’re— You’re insane—,"

"Am I, really?" He pressed, taking a few steps closer. You trembled under a darkened gaze you had never seen before on him. "I’m not sure that’s how you should be speaking to the man trying to offer you a bit of… stability."

"Stability?" You repeated. "You think that’s all that I want?"

"Would this not grant your daughter a better life? The little shop of yours is only getting you two so far, dear."

The shock had worn off as you were now being filled with rage. "Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this anymore," you gritted. "Of course, I want nothing but the best for her but I also deserve someone who will truly love me. You’re — You’re just asking to fulfill some royal commitment and trying to pass it off like this is some big, grand gesture to help me."

Loki looked a bit taken back by your words. Even you were a bit surprised by yourself. You didn’t know where this fight was coming from within you. Probably from the depths of motherhood, if you had to guess. But it felt good in a way.

After a heavy moment, Loki asked, "Was I so wrong to assume this proposal could actually help us both?"

That was the real kicker of it all, you thought. This actually could help you both.

"I want to marry someone who loves me."

Loki seemed to debate around the idea mentally. "I’m certain that within time something could bloom. I’m not a psychopath, darling." He smirked. "But I truly can’t believe you’d give this up all for the minuscule chance at love, the hopeless thing that got you where you are today."

You gasped. "I would’ve had true love if you hadn’t banished him away!"

Loki let out a humorless laugh. "You are so adorable, you know that?" You flinched as he got close enough now to place a hand on your damp cheek. You were practically forced to look in his eyes as he spoke. "That man was nothing but a spoiled brat and I refuse to believe you actually fell for his game."

You felt yourself crumbling down again. Way beneath him. "He… He was really…"

"Don’t you dare try to defend him, do you hear me?" Loki spat. That darkness was washing over but this time it felt like a storm you couldn’t escape. "I will not have my bride speak such niceties about another man."

"Your bride—,"

"While I’ve enjoyed this little midnight confessional, we have some good news to share with everyone, don’t we?"

You didn’t know what to do. What to think anymore. He wasn’t letting up. You were trapped. It was like the prison gate had shut behind you. You were stone-cold now, completely under his control. You were giving up in complete defeat. You could scream until you were blue in the face but you were running in circles. At least your daughter would know a home.

"Yes."

Loki’s face lit up. He removed his hands from you. "Fantastic," he said, heading back towards the palace. You helplessly followed beside him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and said, "Happy engagement, dear."

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

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The 5 Marriage Proposals of Clan Leader Vizsla

AN: I apologize that I didn't get this out last week, but work has been sooooo stressful for me and it is driving me nuts and taking away all motivation. From here on forward I still plan to get one-shots or series parts posted on Wednesdays, but instead of trying to do THOT asks on both Tuesday and Thursday, its probably going to one or the other, most likely Thursdays, each week, and as always Sinful Sudays will always be on Sunday! As always love you guys!!!!!

Pairing: Clan Leader!Paz Vizsla x Reader

Words: 4.8k

Summary: Having a Mandalorian clan settlement not far from your small village was never a problem, they were quiet, they scared away any potential threats, and they came to trade meat they had hunted for items they could not acquire themselves. But their leader seemed to have his heart set on making you his spouse...

or 5 times Clan Leader Paz proposes to you and the 1 time you accept

Warnings: none really, just fluff and pining, Paz not taking no for an answer, mentions of hunting animals, UNEDITED

First Attempt.

It was the first time you had met him. You had been helping your father run his tailoring booth at the market square in the village. The two of you didn’t set the booth up every day the market was open, having a shop on the other side of town made it so you didn’t have too, but you did set up and open the booth about twice a month so you could offer smaller, quicker services as well as sell more already premade clothes, anything from dresses to underthings to handkerchiefs with small embroidered designs. For the most part that is what you did, was the selling of the already made clothing as well as taking small mending orders that you could finish in five minutes or less, your father on the other hand mainly managed from behind the scenes, and talked with barter’s wanting to sell their fabrics, furs, leathers, or what not.

The days that you set up the booth usually managed to collect a handful of customers but never a ton of them. Most would come and browse through your items, ask questions, and then leave empty handed. You didn’t mind, for you you liked the change of scenery from just sitting in the shop all day every day. You didn’t mind the fact that there were always other people to talk to during these days, you didn’t mind talking to your father but he was only your father and sometimes just hearing the town gossip from the elderly women in the neighboring stalls was nice.

Today was like any other market day. You and your father went out and grabbed your usual spot early so you would have time to set up the awning and the tables and racks before laying out clothing. Nothing was new or special about the day, it passed slowly and you walked over for tea at lunchtime with the other women and just sat and listened to the gossip. It was halfway through your first cup of tea that you had heard and saw many of the other women rushing to get up and giggling excitedly as they all rushed back to their booths. As the Syn sisters walked past you you heard the eldest say, “Gosh I hope the mandalorian’s clan leader is with them this time. I would leave my husband in a heartbeat to be with that man.”

It was then that it finally clicked with you that today, of all days, the group of mandalorian hunters were coming in to make trades and buy things for the rest of their people. Some how, in the past you had always managed to miss the warriors. You would say your father did it on purpose, but it is not like the mandalorians let you all know when they were going to be showing up, they just always appeared out of pretty much thin air and leave just as quickly. You knew from your stock at the shop that your father dealt with them in some way, shape, or form because of the nice stock of furs and fleeces your would have replenished at least every other month. All you knew was that this was going to be the first time you would see their kind in person, and not just from rumors and stories that you had heard about through out your life.

After it had dawned on you, you had also gotten up with a giddy nervousness and walked back over to your stall. At your stall you had made yourself busy by tidying up the clothing items and making sure things looked nice as you watched the group of four enter the square and start at one of the farmers’ stalls. From the looks of it, it was pretty easy to tell who was incharge among the group. He was taller than the other, so much taller, towering over even Farmer Jani who was six foot some inches himself. The leader also had an impressive aura about him that just oozed power and control, a demeanor that all but dared you to speak out of turn or try and rip off him or his people. The last real defining feature of the man you assumed to be the leader was his armorered helmet, while the other three’s were plain maybe only having paint on theirs’, his was decorated two sets of horns, the lower pair were thicker and curved around the bottom of his helmet and started roughly behind where you would expect his ears to be, the other set were smaller and less thick and sprouted from the sides of his temples curving straight up before tampering out in a slight curve near the points almost in a bull like fashion.

You had not realized that you had been staring until his helm slowly turned towards you, and you were almost certain that the two of you had made eye contact purely from the chill that traveled down your spine when his head had frozen. While holding your gaze, you saw him tilt his head, followed by his closest associate, a man in complete silver armor, to glance over as well and you could only assume the two were exchanging words. Then he mandalorian in the horned helmet turned completely to you and started walking your way, making your mouth go dry. The only thoughts running through your head was, “did I offend him” and “oh maker please don’t let him do anything bad”.

When his hulking figure stopped in front of you, your panicking mind would only let a singular thought through as you stared up at him, “Kriff, he’s even bigger up close”. Taking a deep breath you smiled up at him, still worried you’d upset him and you meekly asked, “H-hello, is there something I can help you with, sir? Some mending or new clothing perhaps?”

He replied with a grunt, looking around the stall, as if just noticing where he was at, before he gently reached for your left hand, grabbing it and bringing it to the center of his chest and saying, in a voice that was unfairly attractive, “Marry me.”

It took you a whole minute to process what he said, and your face immediately dropped, staring at the horned mandalorian, you shockingly said, “Excuse me?”

Attempt two.

The second time that the man, who you now knew for sure to be the mandalorian clan’s leader, Paz Vizsla, tried to propose to you was in a different situation, but at the same place. Your father had fallen ill for the past week and you had been forced to go to the market by yourself while he slept so that you could grab some medicines as well as replenish your food supply that was starting to get very low. You hadn’t wanted to go, waiting until you absolutely had to go. After your strange encounter with the mandalorian clan leader that ended with him declaring, to everyone in the market, that he was going to get you to say yes to his proposal even if it took him his entire lifetime, well you had understandably been avoiding anywhere and everywhere he may be.

It had been about a month since Leader Vizsla’s first proposal and since that time, you have had your father do most of your shopping as well as staying back at the shop on the days he wanted to set up the booth at the market. He knew and understood your reasoning behind avoiding the market, but he also had been joking with you that have a mandalorian son wouldn’t be so bad, that he would be a better spouse than many of the boys in the village. You couldn’t exactly disagree with him on either point, but you just couldn’t except the proposal with it being the first time you both had met, and neither of you knowing a thing about the other. It just didn’t feel right at all.

Today though, you had shown up at the market, trying to come at the latest possible second hoping that if the mandalorians had come that day, they would have already gotten their things and left. The downside was you were forced to pick through the picked over vegtables, fruits, and meats that the others had not wanted throughout the day. You wouldn’t complain though, because at least at this time of day the evening breeze was blowing and the startings of an orange sky from the setting sun gave everything a beautiful glow.

You had talked with many of the women you were friends with, catching up on all of the news that you had missed in your absence. Many of them saying that they missed you coming to the market, and to your relief no one brought up the events of your last market visit. Though it did seem like each and everyone of the booths you had gone too had the owners shooting glances over your shoulder, but each time you checked there was nothing or no one there. It didn’t change the fact that you also were feeling like someone was watching you, but you tried to just chalk that up to it being one of the villagers in the market, there was always someone watching someone as they walked around the booths.

It was as you were picking out your meat cuts to take home, that you felt someone come up behind you. Thinking it was just another customer, you moved to the side slightly to allow them to look as well without being in the way. You had been talking to the butcher when the person had walked up, and he had excused himself for a second before coming back with a large cut of fresh meat and added to the few items you had already picked out.

“Um, Simon, as lovely as that looks, I cannot afford that cut. Plus I am sure there is someone else here in town that could use that more,” you said with a kind, but confused smile. He acted like he was going to reply, but then the other person at the booth spoke up and you froze as you heard the deep familiar rumbling voice.

“No, mesh’la, that is for you. I caught and cut the animal myself. I wanted to bring you a gift.”

You turned your head to look up at him, realizing he was standing directly next to you. You had to close you eyes and take a deep breath. The gesture was definitely not one you were expecting, and honestly it was hard to argue you didn’t want it when your resources were so lacking at the moment, but a the same time you feared that if you accepted such a gift, than he would use that to twist you into making you marry him. Your doubts must have been crystal clear on your face, because he then said, “The gift is just that, a gift, mesh’la. Though I had hoped that it would show you that I could provide for you and our family. You would want for nothing if you married me.”

‘Clan Leader Vizsla, I cannot accept such a gift when I have nothing to give you in return…”

“I ask nothing of you in return, if not your agreement of marriage, but I will not force you hand. I will be persistent and ask you everytime I see you though because I do know that you are the one I want by my side,” then he turned to Simon and nodded before pulling out the credits for the meat there, passing it to Simon as you tried to protest again. Then he turned to you as he slipped the meats into your basket and said, “So?”

“Leader Vizsla, please. We don’t even know eachother, I can’t marry you.”

Attempt Three.

The cold had crept into your small village, leaves turning from greens to oranges, reads, yellows, and purples, by the time you saw him next. This time you had given up on avoiding the market, especially after learning that Clan Leader Vizsla had been showing up before the sun rose with his other warriors and staying until the market closed by himself having sent the others ahead of him, and just staying and waiting for you to make and appearance. For some reason after you had been told that you had flushed and had to bite your cheek so to try and force down the smile that ept trying to pop up on your face. You still did not know much about the man, but you did know that his actions had proven that he was serious in his pursuit of your hand.

With the weather getting cold, your father, now fully recovered from the illness he had struggled with, had decided he did not want to sit in the cold and risk getting sick again so the two of you stayed in the shop. Your father had run upstairs to your small home for something when you heard two people enter the back door, as you were mending a dress. Gently setting everything down you made your way to the back of the store, coming face to face with the Clan Leader once more, as well as the silver mandalorian from the first time you had met him. You could see Leader Vizsla perk up, straightening his back and almost trying to show off his size and power the second you walked in. The action almost made you laugh, almost. The man beside him gave off a sigh, before saying, “Your father is he here?”

“He is. He just ran upstairs, may I help you with something,” you answered the mandalorian as you watched his leader almost look fidgety with you there, or maybe it is because you were talking to the other mandalorian and not him.

The silver mandalorian nodded in reply, and said, “We have brought in the furs of our hunts, in trade for some new, warmer clothes for the children of the clan.”

You smiled and replied saying, “Of course! May I see what you have brought in?”

As the silver man turned to grab the furs, you watched as the clan leader turned quicker and set them on the table next to you, and said, “Here, mesh’la.”

You only smiled kindly at him, as you took your time looking over the furs, only really stopping once to run your fingers through a beautiful and softer ginger colored fur, which caused Leader Vizsla to step closer and say, “Beautiful, isn’t it? It came from a smaller beast we had been tracking for weeks. Her beauty reminded me of you, especially with how she fought.”

This time you couldn’t help but to laugh at his attempt at flirting, before you said, “Of course, nothing is more romantic than telling the person you want to marry that you thought about them as you killed a creature.”

Behind you you heard a barking laugh come from the silver mandalorian who had been looking through clothes and listening to your conversation. Without turning around or stopping his task, he said, “I like this one, vod. This one I can see keeping you in check.”

Said mandalorian just slumped slightly in embarrassment, before he turned to you and said, “I guess now would not result in a yes to my proposal either?”

You only shook your head, immediately sobering up and pushing your fingers though the soft fur again, brushing against his finger accidentally, before saying, “You are a good man, I can tell, but it just doesn’t feel right for me to accept your offer. I am sorry.”

Attempt Four.

Not as much time had passed since you had last seen the mandalorians in your shop since you had been asked for the third time to marry their leader. In fact it had only been about a week when he showed up at your shop again, with a small bunch of fall flowers and a bag on his side. After getting over the initial shock of seeing him there right at closing and so soon after the incident with the furs, you took the flowers with a smile and a quick thank you, as that familiar heat started rising in your face once again.

“I wanted to ask if you would like to have dinner with me, mesh’la.”

“Dinner?”

The man nodded, and after a second of thought, you allowed your gut to overrule your head, and you agreed. After telling your father and leaving the flowers in some water you walked back to where he stood patiently and asked, “And where exactly are we having this dinner?”

He only tilted his head down to look at you, and you got the feeling that he was just smirking at you before he held his hand out and only replied, “It is a surprise, mesh’la.”

Cautiously, you laid your hand in his own before, which as soon as it was in his grasp he lifted it to his chest right above his heart, before lacing your fingers with his own larger ones and leading you away from the shop. During your walk to where ever you were going you both were silent for the most part until he lead you to a smaller building on the outskirts iof the village. On the outside the building didn’t look like much at all, but the second you walked in you found that your armorered companion most likely decorated the place for this dinner. There was a nice fire going in the fireplace against one wall keeping the place warm and casting the singular room in a soft orange glow. Next to the fire stood a small table, short enough that you both could sit comfortably of the furs laid out on th ground as you ate. On the table sat a couple of candles for more light, as well as plates and utensils. The remaining open space was filled with more of the flowers that he had brought to you, there petals scattered around and in the light they look even more soft and delicate.

The mandalorian lead you inside and helped you down onto one of the sides of the table, before settling next you you and pulling off the bag he had been carrying.

“I did not know what your favorite foods were, mesh’la, so I just made a bunch of traditional mandalorian foods so you could try a little of everything. If that is okay with you?”

“That, actually sounds amazing, Leader Vizsla, but your helmet? I thought your people couldn’t remove it in front of others,” as soon as the words left your mouth, he tilted his head down, before replying, “Please, mesh’la, call me Paz, and… there is a loophole. We are not to show our faces to anyone but our spouses or children, so that just means you cannot look at my face. I had thought…”

“Thought what, Cla-... Paz,” he looked up at you when you said his name, it felt heavy and sweet in your mouth and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that you could get used to saying his name. Softly, Paz raised his hand and brushed his knuckles against your cheek, before lowering his voice and saying, “Mesh’la, I thought that I may blindfold you and feed you, if you were okay with that of course. I would be satisfied just to sit here and watch you enjoy the foods that I have brought.”

Your silent for a moment as you think about his offer. You trusted him, he had never given you a reason not to, and you fully believed he was a good man, that he would not harm you in anyway. So with your heart thundering in your chest, you nodded and watched as he pulled out a smooth cloth and placed it softly over your eyes and carefully tying it there. When he finished, you could only see the the outline of his shape being lit by the fire through your blindfold. Shortly after he had the cloth secured, you heard a slight hiss and watched as his outline lost the bulky horns, then he whispered, his voice now clear and soft, but some how even deeper than with the helmet, “Okay, mesh’la, what would you like to start with? I brought all kinds of flavors and dishes…”

Dinner progressed with Paz tentatively feeding you a bite of one dish, explaining anything and everything about it. Some dishes he talked about the significance of it in their culture, other dishes he would talk about a memory he had that was linked to the dish, or even just giving you a bite and waiting for your reaction before saying that it was one of his favorites to eat and make. By the time the food was eaten and you were fuller than you could ever remember being in your life. You were content and happy and warm, and a feeling of something else was starting to creep into your heart, something that made you want to just smile constantly, something that made you feel warm and fuzzy with every word Paz said.

Once he finished a story about Din, the silver mandalorian and his brother, the two of you sat in content silence for a second before Paz leaned forward, placing his forehead against your own, and said, “Mesh’la, this was nice, I am glad you agreed to this….but I must ask again, because each day without you next to me hurts, love, mesh’la, please, marry me…”

You looked down at your lap with a sigh, and started playing with your fingers. Taking a deep breath and said, “Paz, you know that I can’t… it just-”

“Doens’t feel right. I know mesh’la, but you know I had to ask.”

Attempt Five.

Since your dinner with Paz, you haven’t been able to get off your mind. His voice, or image always floating at the edges of your mind. Months passed and you hadn’t seen nor heard from him or the other mandalorians since that night. You told yourself you weren’t worried, that you were just curious, but it was always half hearted, and never fully convincing. Your father even picked up on your change. Noticing you whip around everytime someone walked into the store only to slump over, he watched as you walked around the market, always looking around for some thing or someone even while chatting with others.

Then your father started getting sick again, and instead of getting better his health just continuously kept slipping further and further away from you. One evening as you were helping him he his dinner he said, “My darling girl, why do you never say yes to the mandalorian? It is obvious you have feelings for him, and I just want you to be happy. I want you to be with some one who will keep you safe, that will never leaving you wanting for anything, and he can do that for you.”

“Dad please, I...I don’t know what I feel for Paz. He is a great man, and I know he would take care of me, I just. I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel right…”

Your father other nodded and then told you he was tired, smiling you kissed his forehead and wished him a goodnight, walking over to the kitchen to clean up dinner.

Your father’s condition stayed much the smae for a couple of weeks, until one evening after you closed up the shop and walked upstairs to check on him before making dinner. At a glance it looked like he was peacefully asleep on his, back, but something nagged at you to go in and check on him and you are both happy and sad that you did. Just brushing your fingers along his cheek and seeing the color gone from his face let you know that he was gone. Biting your lip, you walked downstairs crying and commed the doctor asking him to come over. In the time while you were waiting, you had sat down in your sewing chair and started crying. You sat there for you didn’t know how long watching ass the doctor came and confirmed what you already knew. You turned your head as the doctor took him away from the house with a singular, “I am sorry for your loss.”

You stayed down in the shop for hours, just crying and watching the sun disappear from the sky. Time passed and flowed with you unaware, only able to watch out the window of the shop emotionless and mourning.

It was only when you felt a hand on your shoulder, that you moved, and even then it was only a slow tilt of your head upwards, where you found the now safe and familiar horned helmet looking down towards you. You only sighed and shook your head, having run out of tears either minutes or hours ago. You heard Paz faintly whisper your name, but you didn’t acknowledge him only staring out the window. Paz then moved, so that he was kneeling in front of you and grabbed your face.

“Mesh’la, please. I know you are hurting, I came to see you and I saw them take him away. Please, let me take you away, come with me to the clan, where I can take care of you…”

And for some reason, even though his words were only meant with the best of intentions, but they just made you angry. Now was not the time for this little game you both had been playing, now was not the time for him to be sweeping in here and trying to play the doting lover. Pulling away from him, you stood up and walked away from him with a pained expression, wanting to get away from him, but his reflexes being too quick to fully getaway. By the time you had reached the other side of the room, he was already right next to you, and you just turned and pushed against his chest, trying to punch at him but he kept catching your fists, trying to tell you to stop so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

“Go. A. Way. Paz,” you turn away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself, “PLease just leave, I… I can’t do this right now,” then you walked upstairs, leaving him there and locking the door behind you.

Last Attempt.

It had been a month. A month since you buried your father and a month since you had seen Paz and your heart ached. You missed your father, the person you were closest within this galaxy, but you also missed Paz and felt guilty for the way you had reacted. He had only been trying to help you, he wanted to take care of you in your time of grief and mourning. And you had just tried to hurt him, you pushed him away and now, you hadn’t seen or heard from him. You knew that the mandalorians, including him, had been visiting the market, Din had come by a couple of times to trade furs for clothes and mendings. You always wanted to ask about Paz, but you never felt brave enough. Always thinking that you have finally just managed to push him away for good, and just as you were starting to allow yourself to feel things for him.

Days passed and you found yourself feeling lonelier and lonelier. Some days you couldn’t pull yourself from bed long enough to even open the shop, and your market trips all but stopped, not being able to handle the pitying looks that were shot your way. But you still needed food, so trips were necessary, but now you went first thing in the mornings. The mornings always empty and you had the place to yourself besides the booth owners. You chatted and shopped and tried to seem happy, but it always seemed like there was a deep underlying sadness you couldn’t shake.

Then, one morning, as you were standing by the butcher’s booth, you felt someone come up behind you and much like the first time you watched Simon pull out a nice piece of fresh meat, and you heard the voice you had been aching behind you say, “Mesh’la I hope you won’t fight me this time. You look tired and like you haven’t been eating. I am sorry for what i did and said during our last meeting but I miss you.”

You turn to look at him with a soft smile and sad eyes right as he says, “I will only ask you one last time, meshla, will you please stand by my side and let me give you everything in my power, let me make you happy?”

“Paz...I,” and you saw him slump, before you reached up and cupped the cheek of his helmet, “Paz, I am sorry for how I overreact. Maker I have missed you, how my heart has been broken without you...Yes, Paz, yes.”

Tags: @ollovaemisc @kikiinden @bunny-fair @shellyc9 @just-someone11 @elinedjarin @zukoyonce @nativeomega369 @equalstrashflavoredtrash @itsnottilly @haapeaness @jennacide02 @space-kates @lovecatsnotpeople @rubyuris @boomtownboy @misguidedandbeguiled @kgbtardis @beskarprincessjenny @bluewritesao3 @goblinsimp @phoenixhalliwell @stargazingthenightaway @aeuna1 @joculatrices @soggy-platee @loudicrous @themaskismyface @maybege @alittletosalted @mysticalgalaxysalad @pucksart @blondecity @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @tacticalsparkles @shove-an-ass-up-my-stick

(Thank you all for reading! I hoped you enjoyed the story and all LIKES and/or REBLOGS are super appreciated! Love you guys!)

Also I am planning on making a google form so I can make up some taglists so keep an eye out for that!!

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 3: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

TW: illegal activities, gunshot wound, mentions of blood

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Another bank was looted last night around 11PM, this time in the Geumchon district. This is the second bank that was broken into in the past week and the fourth that is rumored to be the doing of one of Seoul's organized criminal…."

I sighed and put down the pen that I have been using to scribble on a piece of napkin. A frown creased my forehead before I grabbed the offending piece of flimsy paper and crumpled it with my hand. Jeno, who was silently watching the news, looked up and shot me a curious look. He was leaning over the counter lazily, his cup of half finished hot cocoa beside him.

"You okay?"

I winced. "Yeah... Actually. Actually, no. I am not okay," I said finally as I threw the used napkin to the closest thrash. I have been scribbling all the things I have to pay for the coming month there and couldn't bear to take another look at it. Jeno grabbed his drink and silently took a sip of it, obviously waiting for me to elaborate.

After my initial 'unplanned' meeting with Jaemin's friends, it has become more or less of their routine to drop by the cafe to hangout. Jaemin was initially against it at first, always scowling whenever he would see one of them already in the shop, though it seems like he has gotten used to it lately—or rather, he didn't have any other choice but to simply accept it. They would often sometimes come in groups—Jisung and Chenle are big fans of the pastries—but other times it's just one of them who would drop by to visit like Jeno now. My favorite is when all of them drops by to visit, not only because I've started getting closer to them too, but because customers would automatically flock into the shop whenever the "handsome gang" is there. Honestly, I couldn't blame them.

"I'm a little bit short on money this month. I was supposed to get my monthly allowance from my scholarship but something happened so it will be delayed. I have lab things to buy and well—everything sucks."

Jeno nodded slowly, though I have a feeling he doesn't really understand my plight with money. Spending time with the seven of them has given me a better understanding of each boys' personalities. Jeno, for example, is definitely the calmer one of the bunch. While the others would cause chaos every now and then—Jaemin included, he would be on the side watching them usually with that adorable eye smile of his. He is different from Mark who would mostly jump in to join the fun before calming everyone once things get overboard, though both seem to share the same responsibility over the group. He also seems to be the closest to Jaemin, so by extension, I am also most comfortable around him.

"How much money do you need?"

I gave him a look as I reached out for a paper cup to make myself my own hot cocoa.

"I heard the same question from your best friend before. Are you also going to offer to be my sugar daddy?"

Jeno choked on his drink and hid his laughter behind his raised cup.

"Do you want Jaemin to kill me?"

That made me inappropriately blush.

"Sometimes I just want to bust out a bank like that group everyone is talking about."

Jeno didn't say anything and continued watching me from the brim of his drink.

"You think you can do it?"

"Do what?" I asked as I poured hot cocoa on my cup. I said that off-handedly, I almost forgot my words the moment they left my lips.

"Rob a bank. You know, do something illegal."

I leaned back against the counter and craned my head a little sideways as I thought the question over. I didn't actually think of that before so I had to listen to my moral compass a little bit before answering.

"It depends on the reason."

Jeno looked surprised by my reply. He was probably expecting a goody two shoes answer from me, which I don’t blame him for, to be honest. Even I am mildly shocked by what I said.

"The reason?"

"Yes. I mean, if the only reason I would steal is because I don't have money to support my studies, then no, I wouldn't do it. I have other options. I can work extra jobs or I can just drop out from uni. But if I didn't really have any other choice, if I had to do it for someone really close to me, for example, then I would do it."

"That is very…"

"Cliche, right? I know. But that's how it works, at least for me," I said with a laugh. "I do know what's good and bad, but I'm willing to jump the gun if I have to."

I didn't know if it was my imagination, but I thought I heard Jeno murmur something under his breath as I turned to get back to work.

"I bet Jaemin wouldn't like that."

-----

PRESENT DAY, a little over one month after the happenings in the first chapter.

They disappeared like bubbles. No, he disappeared in thin air, like smoke that was blown over by a strong gust of wind. After that night when Jaemin bust through my cafe door, hiding god knows what and asking for temporary shelter, he hasn't shown himself again, apparently leaving while I slipped into a light sleep. Even his friends stopped visiting the cafe which, for a few days, made me genuinely feel scared. Are they okay? What happened to him? Who was he running away from?

That worry slowly and gradually morphed into anger as the days lengthened. I know it was my way of coping with my emotions, but I couldn't help myself. I tried calling him, but the line was cut. It even came to the point that I had to call each of his friends, but it seems like the numbers they gave me were all temporary ones, too. I felt frustrated. I felt...abandoned.

Was it really easy for him to just cut off all contact with me?

Was it foolish of me to think that there is...something deeper here than just friendship?

It was the start of winter when the loud ringing of my phone woke me up from my nap. Eyes still heavy with sleep, my first instinct was to look at the clock by my table which registered 1:19AM. I frowned. I was in the middle of finishing a paper before I decided to take a nap but who could be calling me at such an ungodly hour?

I blearily reached out for my phone and barely looked at the unregistered number before hitting the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Noona?"

I froze. Just like that, I felt the sleepiness slowly melt away from my consciousness. I know that voice.

"Jisung?"

"Noona, we need your help."

I sat up on my seat after registering the panic in his voice. I heard another tone suddenly hiss at him from the background before a rustling sound overtook the speakers. It sounded like someone grabbed the phone from his grasp before he could even react.

"Jisung. What's happening—"

"Hello?" The new voice that spoke on the other line made my heart stop. I stared at my wall, wide-eyed.

"Jaemin."

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to—"

"Jaemin, we don’t really have any other choice but her, give me the phone," another one jumped in. It was Mark.

"No. Hyung—"

"We're losing him," my lips parted in shock at what I heard. His voice sounded clearer now and I could very much pick up the iciness on it. Mark has always been so friendly and warm that it threw me off guard.

"Give me the phone."

The authority he held made me assume that Jaemin did as he was told. Next thing I know, he was calling out my name from the speaker.

"Mark, yes, I'm listening."

"Hey. I'm really sorry about this, but we need your help. We really have no other choice, Haechan is in such a bad state—"

That made me stand up and push away from my desk.

"What the hell is going on? What do you mean about Haechan?"

"I'll explain later. We're on our way to you now."

"Wait, what? You don't know my address."

"We'll be there in seven minutes."

That was all he said before he cut off the call, leaving me standing shell-shocked in the middle of my room.

---

They banged on my door not even five minutes after. I had barely pulled on a cardigan when loud knocks rang through my small one bedroom unit causing me to quickly run and grab my knob open.

I stood frozen at the sight of the seven boys crowding my doorway. Everyone was covered in some sort of soot, leaving them almost unrecognizable in their black outfits. Mark and Jeno were in the middle of the group, carrying a half-conscious Haechan between them. Jisung, Chenle, and Renjun brought the rear, their eyes moving wildly as if checking for eavesdroppers. Jaemin stood closest to me, his jaw tense and his eyes apologetic. My gaze snapped back to the center of the group when Mark called out my name.

That's when I saw it for the first time. I didn't notice it at first because of its dark color, but Jeno was holding a towel against Haechan's stomach. Except it isn't black, it was a deep dark red.

Blood.

"Oh my god."

"Please help us."

Maybe it was the shock, but I quickly stepped aside to let everyone in. I had barely slammed the door shut when I heard a crashing sound from my small dining area. Jeno pushed everything on top of my table to the ground as Mark and Jaemin gently guided Haechan on it.

"What—what is going on—"

"He's been shot. Thrice. We're not sure but I think two of the bullets are still there," Renjun answered me as he grabbed the soaked towel from Mark's hand and replaced it with a new one. Jisung and Chenle worked on closing all the shutters of my windows while Jaemin tore off a lamp from my living room to move it close to Haechan. He closed all other lights other than the ones on the dining area and the small lamp.

It was then when my training finally kicked in. I ran towards the table to peer at the wound, my shaking hands gently moving the new towel that is quickly getting soaked by blood again. Haechan gave a soft grunt of pain before slipping to unconsciousness again.

"I think there are still foreign objects there. It's what causing the severe bleeding."

"Can you take it out?"

My eyes shot to Jeno. The harsh lights from the lamp threw strong shadows on his stressed features.

"I'm not a licensed doctor."

"We don't need a licensed doctor right now, we need someone who can patch the hole in his stomach. Please."

I gritted my teeth. I have a ton of questions running through my head right now, but he's right. We need to act fast or else we will lose him. I rolled up my sleeves then and called out to whoever can act fast to my orders.

"Somebody get the black box under my bed. I have all my surgery practice tools there. I need hot water and lots of towels. Everyone move. Now."

As soon as I said my orders, each of the boys were moving in a flurry to get everything that I asked for. I was adjusting the small lamp directly over the wound to peer at it better when I felt a gentle hand circle around my arm. I looked up to see Jaemin staring at me.

"Thank you."

I didn't say anything at first. I don't know if it was the shadows playing over his features, but he looked different from the Jaemin I knew in that brief moment.

"Don't thank me yet. Say that once we're sure he survives."

---

I was stirred from my sleep by the light snoring of someone to my right. Turning my head, I was greeted by the sight of Jisung who was currently sprawled on my sofa, his legs so long that they were dangling on one end. Chenle was on the floor below him, his face covered by one of the pillows he probably fished from one of my love seats cradling Renjun's curled up form. Mark and Jeno were both sitting upright, the former close to Haechan and the other by the door like a sentinel. They seemed to be in deep sleep too, they're heads hanging low. Jaemin was on the floor next to my seat, his breathing slow and relaxed.

I blinked slowly as my gaze moved from boy to boy. It took me a painful two hours to do the impromptu surgery, first working on taking the bullets out before sewing everything back together. Haechan was lucky enough that the bullets didn't hit any vital organs or important vessels, and that the extreme bleeding was only caused by the wrong muscle being hit by the impact. He slipped from being conscious to unconscious throughout, and everyone had to work together to help me while I did my thing.

I couldn’t really blame any of them from crashing the moment we made sure that Haechan’s safe—for now.

After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tried to silently move from where I was curled on, careful not to stir anyone. I still have a ton of questions, but those can be taken care of later. I padded as carefully as I could towards the table where Haechan was still resting and peered at the IV that I had hooked on his arm to make sure everything was moving well.

They even have spare blood bags with them for emergency transfusions.

...As if this kind of thing normally happens.

"He's going to be okay, right?"

I hastily turned to see Jaemin staring at me. His voice was low and was only loud enough for me to hear.

I stared at him for a bit before looking away.

"Yes. He'll survive."

"Thank you so much."

I didn't answer. He also didn't say anything else, though I could still feel his gaze heavily on me. I braced myself before speaking again.

"We need to talk."

I didn't wait for him to reply. I simply walked towards my room, leaving my door open for him to follow. I only turned back to look at him when I finally heard it close softly behind him.

"Who are you?" I asked, before he could even say anything else. I watched as his jaw tightened and released, his eyes full of indecisiveness. I didn't waver. Not this time.

"You said…"

"That I will never ask questions? I did. But I can't do it anymore, Jaemin. You disappeared for a month without even saying goodbye then showed up on my door with your friends, one of them with a hole in their stomach. You have blood bags—freaking blood bags. What the hell is going on?"

I tried my hardest to control my voice, not wanting any part of this conversation to be heard outside. My legs felt weak at the moment but I tried my best to continue standing so I could hold his gaze.

The look in Jaemin's eyes, however, almost made me want to give up. I knew from the pain and hesitation there that I wouldn't like whatever it is he is about to say.

"I'm a criminal."

My stomach dropped.

I was expecting it, but hearing it straight from him didn't soften the impact and the shock.

"A…"

"We steal. We do illegal things. There is absolutely no good way for me to describe this, but yes, I am a runaway who was stupid enough to bring you into this mess," Jaemin said through gritted teeth as he tore his eyes away from me. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"I was stupid and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone back and tried to befriend you after that order of coffee. I'm sorry I ran to you that night a month ago. I seriously thought I was going to die and I wanted you to be the one that I see for the last time. I'm sorry for today, or that I couldn't answer any of your questions back then. It was selfish of me to keep you in my life without giving you anything back," he stopped and forced himself to look at me again. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest when our gazes met.

"I'm sorry."

I didn't… couldn't say anything. One part of me had already expected this because it is the only reason that makes sense. Those vague answers, his detachment from normal society, the money, every clue seems to point to one direction, but that didn't spare me from my moral dilemma now. Because while I knew, I didn't exactly consider how it relates to me.

I was afraid to.

Because the truth is, I like Na Jaemin to the extent that I'm afraid of what I can do for him.

"Do you kill…" I asked in a whisper, my voice shaky. A frown passed his already stressed features before he answered.

"No. None of us do," he answered, and I knew then that he was telling the truth. Regardless of what he is or what he didn't tell me, I trust him to not lie to me.

"Am I—am I in danger?" I asked next. He firmly shook his head.

"No. I made sure of that. No one would dare—" he stopped, as if gauging what words he can use to not scare me even more. "You have always been under protection."

That’s when it clicked. The cafe visits from his friends. The random strangers who seem to spring out from nowhere every time I was out and about and needed sudden help.

My legs finally gave way and I collapsed on my bed behind me. My mind was trying its best to wrap around the situation, leaving my thoughts in a jumble. There are a million things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get a single one out at the moment.

Jaemin seemed to know what I was feeling at the very least because he simply stood there, silently watching me. I'm not sure how long the two of us stayed in that bubble of silence, but it was also him who brought me back to reality when I felt warmth cover my hands.

I looked up to see him kneeling in front of me, both his hands gently enveloping my clasped ones. The look in his eyes made my heart lurch, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything still.

"I'm sorry if I was selfish… I promise, after this, you won't have to worry about anything else."

No.

"When I met you, I saw something that's so different from the life that I have. Believe me, I tried my best to leave you alone, but I wanted more of it—more of —you, so I kept coming back."

Are you going to leave me again?

"But you'll be safe now. I promise. You can go back to how it used to be before I… almost ruined it."

Please don't leave me.

Jaemin gave my hands one last squeeze and I felt him move to straighten himself. Before he let them go, however, another gentle warmth pressed against my forehead as he grazed it with his lips.

"Thank you."

My tears dropped the same time the doors closed behind him.

---

Chapter 4

120 notes · View notes

feferipeixes · 3 years

Text

Child I Will Hurt You

One of the weirdest things to Alcor about being a father was how automatically Toby trusted him.

Which really freaked him out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. After all, he was practically still a child himself.

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

The thing that scared Alcor the most about raising Toby was how fully the boy trusted him.

He’d experienced and marveled at that kind of trust before. When Mabel found him after that fateful day in 2012 and threw herself at him, sobbing with relief that he wasn’t gone after all, he felt it. When Stan took him and Mabel into his home a few years later, patted him on the back and said “It’s no problem, kid”, he felt it. When he warned Mabel that he shouldn’t be trusted with the triplets’ true names and Mabel shouted him right out of his self-flagellation, he felt it.

The first day he brought Toby home after finding him alone and shivering on the street, he felt something very different.

Panic.

Panic over who the child in front of him truly was underneath that thin layer of flesh. Panic over what would happen if he didn’t stop whatever Bill was planning. Panic as he remembered Weirdmageddon over and over again in complete, horrific detail.

“Listen kid,” he said, floating a few feet off the ground so he could better tower over the child, “no funny business, okay? You hear me in there, Bill?”

Toby only cocked his head, scraggly and unwashed golden locks tumbling away from his face to reveal his scarred eye. He still wore the half-scared half-curious look he’d had when he’d first caught the demon’s attention, but there was something else bubbling up. Something that tasted suspiciously like trust.

It really freaked Alcor out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. Trust was something you gave to adults who knew what they were doing, after all, and he was practically still a child himself.

Alcor grimaced, and lowered onto his knees so he could look the boy directly in the eyes. “I mean it. I’m watching you. I’ll know if anything bad happens.”

To his surprise, Toby smiled at that. “You can make the bad things stop?”

“Yes,” Alcor replied, his voice cracking like it hadn’t in centuries because he was already messing this up, he was sure of it. “N-no getting into trouble. Not on my watch.”

The boy’s face lit up, trust shining brilliant from both eyes, and before Alcor could tell what was happening, Toby had reached up and hugged him around the neck.

And the demon remembered

Bill’s little pipe cleaner hands iron-clad around his neck,

Squeezing the life out of him,

Blue fire rushing all over his body,

Over and into his soul,

Screaming until there was no more breath left in him,

And the little boy’s smile radiated such trust and hope that Alcor was left completely speechless.

“Thank you,” Toby squeaked, and Alcor felt it.

---

“Oh stars, I can’t do this, I can’t do this!” Alcor was in his human disguise, head in hands, elbows resting on the counter, rambling like the world was ending. “I’m way in over my head. Raising a child? Me? I mean I looked after Mabel’s triplets but this is so different…”

“...Sir?” The cashier’s hand hovered over Alcor’s head, unsure whether it was appropriate or comforting to actually pat him. “Are you alright?”

“No!” he fumed, lashing out and knocking over some of his groceries. “I have a six year old at home and he trusts me to look after him and keep him safe! How could this possibly have happened?”

“Uh…” The cashier peered behind the man to the customers in line, most of whom looked some degree of disgruntled or confused. She gave them a little wave to indicate that they should probably move to a different register, and then turned back to the man who appeared to be hyperventilating now. “Do you have a partner? Anyone who’s helping you?”

“Of course not, I’m alone, I’ve got no friends,” he moaned. “There’s no one who I trust enough to foist Toby off to. The poor boy has such bad karma -- he needs me to protect him from that or he’ll get eaten alive!”

“Well… it sounds like you’ve got the right instincts at least. You want to keep him safe.”

“That’s just it! I don’t!” Alcor picked his head up and the cashier saw streaks of a strange yellow liquid running down his face. “Everything I’m doing for him is just stuff I picked up from watching my sister raise her kids! I don’t have any kind of adulting instincts -- none at all! I transcended when I was fucking twelve and that’s where I’ll be stuck until the end of time. I’m just a pointless child! I’ve got too much power and no actual ability to help anyone!”

The cashier sighed and -- after the man nodded to say it was alright -- put her hand on his shoulder. “Listen, man, all of that stuff sounds normal.” (Except for the parts that made no sense to her at all but she opted to ignore them.) “No one knows how to raise a kid, and no one ever feels like they’ve grown up. You learn it as you go. Trust me, my kids ran me ragged and I had no idea what I was doing. But they turned out alright. So will yours.”

Alcor’s voice began to wobble, and he pressed gloved hands to his temples. “But he won’t! I’m developmentally frozen. I’m not capable of learning anything! Seriously, what kind of adult buys this much candy?”

She glanced at his cart, which indeed was half filled with Giddy Cowboys and Sneakers bars. “That is a lot,” she admitted. “I would not advise giving your kid that much candy.”

“What? No.” Alcor stopped sniffling and pulled a face like he’d just smelled poo. “That’s for me. I’m buying all these vegetables and milk and chicken for Toby. He’s a growing kid, he needs to eat healthy, get all those food groups in, you know. I’m not stupid. But I am childish for liking candy so much that I’d eat this much of it in a week! I mean, seriously! Oh stars, I’m hopeless!”

The cashier lifted an eyebrow and removed her hand. “You eat all of this… in a week?”

“I know, I know, I’m ridiculous!”

“That’s not what I meant,” the cashier cut in, before he could start gibbering again. “I’m just worried about your teeth. Your… teeth…” She trailed off as the man suddenly yawned, exposing two rows of jagged knives that could sink into her flesh in an instant. “Your, um, your- your-”

Alcor pulled a mirror out of seemingly nowhere and started picking at his teeth. “What, do I have something in them?”

The cashier’s eyes widened even more as the man’s gloves came off. “My… what pointy claws you have…”

“Thank- wait.” Alcor froze, one long blackened nail still pressed into his gum. “Wait a minute. Pointy. Sharp. Cutting and slicing and ripping open oh stars!”

“Um- um- um-” the cashier tried to say, but with every word she felt like she was shrinking until she’d be swallowed up by her clothes. “Slicing?”

Alcor shook his head furiously, and this time his fist was positively trembling when it came down onto the counter. “I haven’t child proofed the knife drawer in the kitchen!”

He flipped his hat off of his head and pulled out a wad of cash, which he then thrust into the cashier’s hands just as her lights went out. Before anyone else could react, he vanished into thin air, taking his groceries and the shopping cart with him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before,” Alcor grumbled as he zeroed in on the offending drawer. He pulled it open and there they were -- obscene, dangerous implements that he was a wicked and cruel caretaker to have potentially exposed his child to. He couldn’t stop imagining what might’ve happened if Toby had tried to pull open the drawer and it had fallen on him -- couldn’t stop thinking about his little boy sticking his adorable hand in and receiving cuts and lacerations and awful, awful sobbing filling the house…

With a snap, child locks were in place. Alcor tested them out by trying to pull the drawer open -- and it took a few tries before even he was able to. Sighing with relief, he leaned against the counter and slid down to the floor. His feet bumped up against the shopping cart sitting in the middle of the kitchen, overflowing with Reece’s Mugs and Chortle Taffy and Quasarbursts.

He couldn’t do this. He was too irresponsible.

Alcor dug a hand into the cart and pulled out a candy bar. He sank his teeth into it, enjoyed the rush of sweetness that was almost as good as flesh and bone. Slowly he began to unclench his muscles -- even though his form was imaginary, the cramps shooting throughout his body still hurt. He slid down the counter a little further, almost letting his head touch the floor -- and then he noticed it.

The stairs.

Bolting upright, Alcor let the candy bar fall from his hand. The stairs. How hadn’t he thought about that before? What if Toby fell down and tumbled into the banister and lost his other eye? What if what if what if?

Not a minute later, the demon was wrestling with child safety gates, somehow struggling even with all of his considerable power just to get them to attach to the wall. At one point he tipped his jaw back and used his tongue to line the edges with spit, which then solidified like glue. The stairs had to be safe. He couldn’t risk Toby getting hurt.

And with that thought came even more thoughts that sent Alcor racing through the house. What if Toby slipped in the bathtub? What if Toby climbed on top of the fridge and couldn’t get down? What if Bill slammed his arm in a drawer again and again and again and again until it was full of forks and then he poured soda into his eyes and laughed like a maniac while Dipper drowned in the vast emptiness of the Mindscape???

Alcor stiffened. He set down the intricate contraption he’d been building to keep Toby safe from wild animals in the backyard. And he looked into the mirror.

What was he doing?

This was Bill’s soul he was fretting over. It was always him, on the inside, and he’d known it from the very first day he’d seen the boy. He knew what was lurking beneath the surface, what kind of monster slept in that innocent form waiting until one day he could reach out and traumatize his father once more. Reach out and steal his beating heart, and laugh, and live, and die, and laugh, and live, and die, in a way he’d never be able to again.

A chill passed through Alcor’s body. Something had to be wrong with him, because he knew what Toby was and he’d spent the entire week worrying about the boy. Why did he care so much?

Quietly, he crept down the hall, and peered into the bedroom on the right. There he was -- the beast himself -- sleeping soundly in a bed decorated with race cars and rocket ships. A few more steps, and Alcor could see how small he looked, how even in his sleep he seemed so broken. And the demonic instincts that had rushed through Alcor since the day he’d gone up in flames were quelled, because every fiber of his being told him he needed to protect this child.

He rested a hand on the boy’s forehead, and watched him dream about running around in a field of grass, playing catch with his new father.

---

Thus started a new routine. A demon, trying day-to-day to take care of a small child. Playing grown up even though he felt so utterly unprepared for what he was doing. But Alcor’s life didn’t stop when he became a parent.

Neither did any of his other regular obligations.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now!” Alcor roared, jumping to his feet. “I’m gonna run you through with my sword! Die die die die!”

The dungeon master -- Damien -- peered over his half-rimmed glasses at the demon and smirked. “Not gonna work, I’m afraid. The slime beast’s armor is too thick to be pierced by a sword such as your own.”

Alcor gaped with disbelief. “Whaaat? I call foul play! You let Anushka do it!”

“Anushka’s sword has a fire enchantment on it. Slime armor is weak to heat.”

“Also, I said die five times,” Anushka added with a shit-eating grin on her face, jabbing Alcor in the side with her elbow. “Die die die die die!”

Alcor snorted and dropped back into his chair. “Well, you got me there.” He looked at the other players, disappointment rolling over into amusement. “Can I change my move or am I locked in?”

Damien shrugged. “Go for it. I don’t think you’ll be able to beat it this turn though, and you’ve only got one hit point remaining.”

Nat leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Yo, I’ve got an idea. You should defend this turn and try to survive the slime’s attack, and then on my turn I can fire enchant your sword.”

“Huh. Maybe…” He patted his head to get the spittle out of his ear, and surveyed the map of the dungeon they were in. Then he sat bolt upright in his seat, a large exclamation mark appearing over his head. “Damien. How many sword actions do I get this turn?”

Damien rolled a die. “Two.”

“Yessss. Okay. First, I lunge at the slime again! But with the blunt end of my sword so it gets knocked back.”

Damien rolled another die. “Yep. That works. Are you gonna use your free movement to approach it again?”

Alcor shook his head. “Nope. I’m gonna throw my sword -”

“Your sword doesn’t have enough piercing damage to make a difference from that distance, I’m afraid.”

The room’s dim lighting glinted off of razor sharp teeth. “- at the cable holding up the chandelier.”

Anushka and Nat dropped their pencils, and looked straight up, momentarily forgetting that they were not actually in the dungeon they were traversing. “You what?”

Damien rolled a die again, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Alright. The chandelier falls onto the slime beast before it can react. It quickly catches on fire, leaving it too weak to attack. Congrats!”

Beaming, Alcor scribbled some numbers on his character sheet. “Heck yeah. No slime beast is strong enough to get one past the Dreambender.”

“You’re so creative, Al,” Nat said. “Seriously, wow. I never would’ve thought of that.”

He wove off the compliment. “Naw, I’m just basically a large child. Being silly and immature is what they’re good at.”

Looking up over his dungeon master partition, Damien furrowed his brow. “Why do you say you’re immature -”

There was a ringing in Alcor’s head -- a tug on a bond -- and he held up his hand. “Wait, hold that thought. Speaking of children, my kid’s calling me. I’m gonna have to leave early this week.” He stood up, and did a dramatic bow. “I’ll see ya all next week! Don’t lose my summoning circle!”

Toby -- lying flat on the floor of the Mystery Shack -- perked up at the sight of his adoptive father walking through the door. Tyrone looked about as human as they come -- a man in his mid-thirties with soft brown eyes, no wings, and feet that always touched the ground. He opened his arms and Toby came running to hug him.

Right away there was that trust again, that total trust that Alcor still couldn’t believe he deserved. How could someone like him -- someone who’d just spent two hours playing a tabletop role playing game and laughing about memes -- be trusted to take care of a child?

Gingerly, he took Toby into his arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How are you doing?”

“I’m boooooooored!” Toby whined. “Can we play a game? I wanna play pretend!”

Chuckling, Alcor put Toby down and then sat beside him on the floor. “Sure thing, kid. You know, I’m pretty good at playing games like that. I was playing one with my friends earlier today.”

Toby’s jaw dropped. “Whoaaaaa! You have friends?”

A vein bulged in Alcor’s forehead. “Of course I- never mind. What’s the game, kid? What are we pretending?”

Toby jumped up and started pacing in a circle. “I wanna make up a story! It’s gonna be great! I’ll be the hero and you’ll be the bad guy -- an evil king who wants to kill all of the good people in the land! Is… is that okay?”

There was a mirror mounted on the wall behind where Toby had been sitting. Without the boy in his way, Alcor found his gaze fixed on it. He could see Toby gesturing as he walked and he could see the nostalgic decorations hanging on the wall of the Shack. But there was no Tyrone to speak of.

It took a moment for him to realize that Toby was talking to him. “What? Oh yeah. Of course, kid. I’ll be the bad guy.” He took a deep breath, discarding the voice in his head that furiously objected to him being the villain to Bill’s hero. “What’s my motivation?”

Toby cocked his head. “Moti- what?”

“What’s my backstory? Why am I evil?”

The boy continued to stare at him with a blank look on his face. “You’re evil cause you’re the bad guy and bad guys are evil!”

“That’s kinda boring- never mind.” Alcor grimaced and looked back at the mirror. “So you’re the hero, eh? How are you going to defeat me? What’s the hero good at?”

“Everything!!!!” Toby squealed, and his reflection grabbed onto something invisible. “The hero is the good guy so I should always win and I’ll have all of the magic and the biggest swords ever!”

Alcor shifted so that Toby was hanging onto his shoulders rather than around his middle. “Everything? But if the hero always wins, what’s the point?”

“The good guy always has to win!” the boy chirped, squeezing tight around Alcor’s neck. “Always!”

Oh my stars this is so boring, Alcor thought. How fricking uninventive is Bill’s soul? Children are supposed to be good at being silly and creative. I guess all Bill’s soul can think about is being powerful again.

A figure stepped into the room on the other side of the mirror. It was short -- looked to be about 12 years old -- and had clawed hands, bat wings sprouting from its hips, and a fancy suit that looked out of place for someone so young. Alcor’s jaw dropped as he watched the figure pick up Toby’s reflection, pat him on the back, and then stare directly out of the mirror at the demon.

“This is a game for children,” the figure said in a low growl.

“What?” Alcor yelped.

Toby giggled at the interruption. “I said that all the evil people should die because they’re mean! No one should ever do a bad thing!“

“This is what children are like. They see in black-and-white because they know nothing about how the world works.” Cold, black eyes bored into Alcor’s skull. “Have you forgotten what that’s like?”

“B-but I’m silly,” Alcor stammered, sweat starting to drip down his face. “I’m irresponsible. I love playing games and coming up with interesting stories. Those are childish things for someone as old as me to be doing.”

“Dad?” Toby asked. “What are you saying? I can’t hear you.”

The figure sneered, baring two sets of sharp teeth uncomfortably close to Toby’s head. “Whoever told you that must’ve really hated the idea of growing up.” Toby stirred, and it spent a moment cradling him so he’d calm down. Then those eyes -- now bright and full of gold -- flicked back at the demon. “Who said it? Was it you?”

Alcor gasped and fell over. Toby shrieked as he suddenly found himself tumbling to the ground, and the sound broke Alcor right out of his trance. Quick as a whistle, he pirouetted and caught the boy in his arms, pulling him close to his chest in a tight hug.

“Oh no, oh Toby, are you alright?” he fretted. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m okay!” Toby squeaked, his face pressed against Alcor’s collarbone. Alcor loosened up on his hug, and took in Toby’s smile. “That was fun! You always catch me! That’s how I know you’re really a good guy.”

“I’m a good guy?” Alcor gulped, and glanced back at the mirror. This time he saw himself, in his present human disguise, holding Toby close, and looking so, so utterly responsible. It freaked him out.

“...Dad?” Toby asked, brow crumpled. “Daaaaad what are you thinking?”

“I think…” Alcor sighed, and gave his son a little kiss on the forehead. “I think it’s time you got some friends your own age.”

---

From that day on, things were a little different.

Alcor bought a house in the physical plane, because a memory of a shack in the Mindscape was no place to raise a child.

“Dad?”

He doctored forms and documents so it not only looked like a certain Tyrone Pines actually existed, but also that he and his adopted son Tobias Pines were legal residents of a sleepy town in the middle of Washington. This let Toby attend school with kids his own age.

“What is it, Toby?”

He went to the library on the weekly to check out parenting books, having long exhausted the meager supply of advice his omniscience had to offer -- as it turned out, parenting was very much a learn-as-you-go experience with few absolute truths to guide you.

“What’s a demon?”

Alcor froze, his hand halfway in the process of turning a page in his book. He started to turn his head around to look at the boy, and remembered just in time to turn his body around with it.

“Where did you hear that?” Alcor asked carefully.

Toby kept his head down, opting to study his father’s shoes instead of his face. “I, um...”

There it was again, that emotion bubbling up inside of Alcor, that instinctual distrust he couldn’t help but feel for the soul who had once taken everything from him. It was all he could do not to jump up and yell “Aha! Caught you red-handed, Bill! I knew you were in there all along!”

He got out of his chair and knelt in front of the child, using a finger to gently raise the boy’s head so they could see eye-to-eye. “You can tell me,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

Alcor saw Toby reach into that pure, automatic trust he had for the monster who was raising him. The boy gulped, and squared his shoulders.

“Um... Devon’s dad said it to Devon.”

Alcor blinked. “Is that so? Devon, the kid in your class who asked you to play baseball with him?”

Toby nodded. “H-he was asking me again, and I know you said I wasn’t allowed to, but he started showing me anyway. He got his bat and swinged it and it looked really cool. Then his dad yelled at him and said ‘Devon, you little demon, cut that out right now!’“

Alcor could only stare, mouth agape, in response. Toby started to tremble as he continued speaking. “Then Devon’s dad took the baseball bat and Devon got really sad and I didn’t know what it means but it looked bad and I don’t want to be a little demon and I’m really really sorry I said I wanted to play baseball I don’t want to be a demon I don’t I don’t -”

He cut off with a squeak as his father took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Alcor was a being with access to more power and magic than almost anything else in the universe. He could level mountains, he could turn cities inside out, he could institute universal basic income on the moon with a snap of his fingers.

But when he held Toby in his arms, when he saw the awestruck look on the boy’s face when he played the violin for him, when he listened to Toby babble excitedly about whatever he’d learned in school that day, Alcor felt powerful.

All of his magic crumbled beneath the obscene power granted to him by way of this child’s trust in him. He had the power to protect this child, to support and encourage him to grow up to be the best person he could be. He could also betray Toby’s trust so, so easily.

He could punish his son for no reason if he needed an emotional pick-me-up. He could disregard the boy’s concerns and laugh in his face. He could even raise his voice just a little too much, caught in a moment of frustration, and leave Toby wincing in distress -- an ephemeral moment in Alcor’s life but an upsetting and formative moment in Toby’s which could forever mar their relationship.

That would be childish. That would be immature of him.

Alcor had killed reams of cultists, had bestowed disturbing curses on people who’d only sort of deserved it, had terraformed the western coast of the United States in a fit of rage. He’d done a lot of horrible things with his magic, but.

This power, this power he had to shape Toby’s life.

This power horrified him.

“You’re not a demon,” Alcor said, (and it felt so unfair to be saying that to him of all people -- so cruel and dirty that he wanted to scream until his hair fell out. But he didn’t.)

“Don’t cry,” (even though no one had held him when he cried that day in 2012, because he’d simply slipped through their fingers, and he wanted to repay that favor. But he didn’t.)

“Daddy’s here,” he whispered, before kissing Toby’s tears away. “You’re not in trouble.”

The words came so naturally, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he had the experience to understand what was upsetting his son, and the power to make it better. As if he had the maturity to push past his own conflicted feelings, because he was an adult, and this was a little child.

He set Toby down, and kneeled to meet his eyes. In that moment, he felt tall. Sort of grown up.

Toby sniffled. “You’d never yell at me? Even if I do something wrong?”

Alcor thought once again back to the day he’d seen Bill Cipher on the side of the road. Thought about the furious, vengeful part of him that enjoyed the boy’s suffering because that’s what he deserved. Remarked on how the universe had served him up his greatest enemy in the most vulnerable form possible, giving him the opportunity to take Toby’s trust and do unspeakable things to him.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I promise.”

Remembered how he’d instead chosen love.

---

It was a dark and stormy night that found Alcor wandering the streets of a mostly-abandoned city.

He’d been summoned -- it always started with a summons -- and he’d been angry. It didn’t even matter what had made him angry, because there were so many things these days that people absolutely would not stop doing no matter how much he screamed and threatened and threw flaming balls of plasma into their twisted places of worship. They never learned. And neither did he.

Alcor couldn’t stand how many people had to die because of him. How many people were killed in his name. How many lives he’d taken with his own hands because he couldn’t seem to stop, like an immature brat who throws tantrums when things don’t go his way. He wondered if he could ever change, or if he was just stuck this way.

It was deep in these thoughts that the demon heard a little noise. A squeak, barely audible over the rain. He dismissed it at first, because his grand thoughts were more important than the world around him, and right after a bad summons was the perfect time for self-hatred. It felt good -- it was one of the only things that still did. He considered burning the entire city to the ground. Maybe that’d feel even better.

Something told him that it wouldn’t.

He heard the squeak again, his eyes darting over to a heap of trash bags between two buildings, and that’s when he saw him. A little boy with golden hair, no older than six. He was dressed in rags. He looked like he hadn’t seen a scrap of food in days. The left side of his face had been eaten away by flame, leaving it patchy and discolored.

Alcor had seen right through Bill’s disguise, of course. There wasn’t a meatsuit pitiable enough to blot out the sins his soul had committed. Perhaps that was why he had been abandoned on the side of the street to begin with -- karma was finally catching up with him. Alcor wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. Something strange was going on inside of him. Some sort of instinct buried within him -- not one tipped with blood and claws, but one that creaked and groaned under centuries of exertion.

It was this feeling that prompted him to gather up the child in his arms. He felt how fast the boy’s heart was beating; saw in his past how much he’d been hurt without an adult to protect him. He knew that feeling well.

“It’s okay,” he murmured as Toby began to fuss. “Things will be better now. I’ll protect you. I might only be a child myself, but I promise I’ll protect you.”

One year later, one year of introspection, growth, and unbroken promises later, he had to admit he’d been wrong.

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #toby pines #tobias pines #fic #my stuff

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snowstark · 3 years

Text

No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee ☕️

For @buckybarnesbingo | Y3 - AU: Coffee Shop

LINK TO AO3

Summary: Steve hasn’t been to the coffee shop across his street in two years. To his surprise, the barista still remembers his order. There’s no way that means anything though, right? (Spoiler alert: it does).

Steve hadn’t been to this place in two years.

Two years was a long time.

In two years, he’d grown a beard. In two years, he’d managed to earn enough that he was able to switch his polyester suits for cashmere. In two years, Steve went from a stammering, newly-hired intern to Pepper Potts’ personal assistant in Stark Industries.

So yeah, Steve Rogers was a grown ass man, and he was still scared of showing his face to his neighbourhood coffee shop. Humiliating.

But, well. That was two years ago. And there was no way Twink Barista would still be working here.

He was wrong. Twink Barista was still working there, and somehow, even assuming that he would’ve been able to find a new, better job where he didn’t have to deal with angry businessmen made Steve feel even guiltier. He of all people knew that job hunting wasn’t easy. Had been jobless and couch surfing for a while, until he’d met Pepper and she’d seen something in him.

This was fine. He could deal with this. Two years had passed. He’d probably forgotten all about Steve, had probably allowed the memory to fade into other similar ones. Besides, he’d changed. He had a beard now. Wasn't that basically a disguise?

There was a long line, so Steve sat down at a table. He hated lines; he was willing to wait half an hour until it cleared out.

Then he started second-guessing himself, because shit, maybe he should just get in line to order when the barista was busy with multiple customers waiting so that he wouldn’t even take a long look at Steve’s face.

What if he remembered Steve? What if he reacted badly? What if—why did Steve even care? Baristas dealt with angry people on the daily. Steve knew from experience. So why did he care?

Because he didn’t like being an asshole, or a bully.

And he’d been both, and hadn’t ever bothered to try to make amends afterwards, had just disappeared.

All over spilled coffee.

Twink Barista was still cute. Same hair, same shy look on his face, same flushed cheeks. The first time Steve had laid eyes on him, he’d, well, he’d been charmed, to say the least. The way he’d nervously fidgeted as he let Steve pay for his order had made him smile, and his squeaked, “Thank you, Sir, your order will be right with you,” had really just been the cherry on the top.

Sir.

Steve… liked that.

Steve liked being called Sir. Not just at work, but in bed. And hearing Twink Barista—fuck, what was his name again?—utter that title had… well, he hadn’t had to deal with that problem when scalding hot coffee had soaked his stomach and pants. And crotch.

Twink Barista had a co-worker now, too, he noted. He was cute, like a golden retriever, with how much he smiled and nodded as he took orders from customers, how he handed them their drinks with an extra flourish, beaming. Like life was content, and everything was rainbows and sunshine. If Steve squinted from where he was, he could see that his name started with a C, and when he leaned closer—subtly—the best he got was… Cit? Clit? Oh, god, please don’t let his name be Clit.

Two customers left, which left just a few in the store. He should probably get in line now. But his feet couldn’t move, like they were stuck to the floor, because he wasn’t sure whether facing Twink Barista or a blonde guy potentially named Clit would be worse.

Fortunately—unfortunately?—he didn't have to decide.

Blonde guy—Steve refused to refer to him as “Clit,” even mentally, goddammit—started bustling around after Twink Barista murmured something to him, and stepped out from behind the counter with a mug.

And headed straight for Steve.

Oh, god. This wasn’t—this couldn’t—

Steve tried to look anywhere and everywhere else he could, even considered getting up to flee, but it was too late.

Blonde guy—Clint! Steve noted with dizzying relief—set down the mug on the small round table that he was sitting at and beamed. “For you!”

Steve swallowed back… whatever he’d been about to say, and hesitated for a long few moments before saying dumbly, “I didn’t stand in line.” He could feel his shirt begin to get damp with sweat.

Clint seemed unfazed. He shrugged and smiled politely, maybe a bit awkwardly, but it was still just as warm as the one he’d given the other customers. “My buddy Bucky says it’s your favourite. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Clint hurried away before he could. His favourite. What the hell did that mean?

He reached out, picked up the warm mug, and took a sip. His cheeks flushed with heat the moment the drink hit his taste buds. He pulled back almost reflexively, nearly choking on his drink, tongue burning both from the flavour and how hot it was.

He jerked his head up and towards the direction of the counter, and met Twink—Bucky’s—eyes for a split second before Bucky hurriedly looked away. His cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink than usual, Steve noted, because Steve always noticed small things like that. He suddenly began talking animatedly with customers, but Steve could pick out the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept swallowing reflexively like he was trying to push down bile, like he was nervous that Steve would—like he might—

No. Enough. Steve had a meeting in a bit more than half an hour. He’d come here to relax. So that was what he’d do.

He picked up the mug again and took another sip, then began to read his newspaper, because he was here to relax.

The article was talking about a dog that had managed to save four people from a fire before firefighters could step in.

Lucky, a golden lab at the spry age of two, suffered three mild burns after—

“Sir, please, I didn’t—please don’t leave without pay—”

“What the fuck did you say? You think it’s okay to just say that after you fuckin’ spill that all over me?”

“Sir, I’m s-so—”

—safe to say that Lucky did not suffer any serious injuries. Our furry neighbourhood hero—

“You think you can fucking get a bill after that clown show? You think—god, are you—are you that dense?”

“I promise, Sir, I’ll get you a new drink—”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Unbelievable. You think it’s easy to get this dry-cleaned? Do you even realize how much I—”

Steve’s grip tightened on the paper, and he wished the store would turn up their soft jazz music, if only to block out the sounds in his head.

By the time he finished his drink, he had fifteen minutes to spare, but he didn’t want to spend a second longer in here. So, he yanked out his wallet, pulled out a few bills at random—they happened to be hundreds—and shifted the mug so that he could slide it under, just enough so that half of the bills were poking out. He grabbed the unused napkin Clint had brought with it, pulled out a pen from his pocket, and scrawled, Thank you for the drink, Bucky. My favourite. - S.R.

Then, he got the fuck out of there without looking back even once.

__________

For some unfathomable reason, Steve returned to the coffee shop a few days later.

Maybe it was to try to make amends, since his little napkin note wasn’t, well, enough. Or maybe he just wanted to stare at Bucky again. He was pretty.

He was disappointed to see that Bucky wasn’t there when he stood in line; it was just Clint again, and a red-haired girl, but that was okay. It wasn’t like his life depended on seeing the guy. Besides, Bucky had to have a life outside of his job too.

Steve wondered if he still thought about the incident as frequently as Steve did. He clearly remembered it, considering he’d remembered Steve’s order, but…

He jumped when the door opened with a loud jingle, and speak of the devil, in stepped Bucky. He looked flushed, and his hair was a sweaty mess that he reached up to push away from his forehead. He still looked pretty.

Steve almost raised a hand to say hi, and barely stopped himself in time as Bucky turned and met his eyes, covering his ass by pretending to scritch at his beard. He gave a small smile, a hopeful one, wait, no, what was wrong with him, and Bucky flashed him one that didn’t quite reach his eyes before scrambling to get behind the counter.

There were only two people in front of him, so it wasn’t a long wait, and in less than two minutes, Steve found himself standing in front of Bucky. Clint and the red-head squawked inaudibly to each other, but it was clearly some teasing thrown at Bucky, because Steve noticed Bucky subtly stepping on Clint’s toes, drawing out a muffled yelp from him.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Bucky gave him a small smile. Again, didn’t quite reach his eyes.

That was mostly Steve’s fault, he supposed. He didn’t exactly look like a sweet, innocent little lamb right now either, probably worse than two years ago. “The usual,” he supplied, raising an eyebrow to see if Bucky understood, just because he wanted to.

Bucky’s cheeks grew rosy. “Of course. Is that all?”

“Mmm…” Steve let his gaze slide over to the pastries that were on display. “Give me your favourite from the desserts, too.”

“Of course.” Bucky tapped into the screen, brows knitting as he concentrated, and shit, he was really cute.

Steve swallowed. “Thanks. How much?”

“Oh, um, it’s fine. I’ll just—it’s on me. You paid more than enough last time.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No, c’mon, kid. How much?”

Bucky flushed. “‘m not a kid.”

“No?” Steve pointedly let his eyes roam over Bucky’s face, then down to his chest before flicking back up, delighted—because he was a sadist, sue him—to see Bucky’s face growing even warmer at the attention. “Sure look like one.”

Bucky gaped, and Steve suddenly—he—what the fuck was he doing? Jesus. He shook his head. “Sorry, just, look, just tell me how much.” He was—that was so inappropriate and unprofessional, he shouldn’t even be—

“Ten bucks,” Bucky mumbled, and Steve paid.

He glanced over his shoulder and noted that there were only three people actually sitting in the shop and no one in line behind him, which, cool, that was good. “Thanks,” he said simply, then moved to sit down.

He watched as Bucky hurriedly bowed his head, making his drinks, hissing something to his co-workers, cheeks still pink, and Steve saw him pop a matcha strawberry brownie into the oven.

He glanced down at his phone, answered a quick email, then sent Pepper a text saying that he might be a few minutes late back from his break, which she responded to with a thumbs up, and then the water gun emoji. He smiled.

“Your wife?”

Steve jumped and looked up, turning his phone off reflexively. Bucky set down the plate and mug in front of him. “Oh, no, my, uh, my boss.” He laughed awkwardly.

Bucky looked mortified. “Oh my god, I’m—I don’t even know why I asked that, I shouldn’t have even been looking, I’m so sorry, I don’t usually—I didn’t—”

“Bucky, it’s fine.” Steve gave him a smile that he hoped was warm, and reached out to take his drink. Bucky’s eyes followed his movements anxiously. “Thank you for the drink.”

Bucky blinked. “You paid for it.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “I guess so.”

Bucky swallowed, glanced over his shoulder at Clint, who raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve smiled, he couldn’t help it, okay? “Is there a problem?”

Bucky shook his head, hard. “No, no, oh—it’s just—you know, it’s just an inside joke or something.” He flushed again, and Steve’s eyes lingered on his face for a few moments before he tore it away to take a bite from the brownie. “Um, is there anything else I can—that I can do? So that—I don’t want to mess up like—maybe you don’t even remember that it was me, but—”

“Two years ago?” The words slipped before Steve could bite them back.

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, um, okay, you do remember. That’s… not fun.”

Steve took the time to think over his words before responding. “No, I suppose not,” he finally said. Bucky twitched. “But only because I keep remembering your tears while I yelled at you.” He huffed humourlessly.

Bucky hesitated, then— “My crocodile tears, you mean?”

“Oh, shit, I did call them that, didn’t I?” Steve gave him a rueful glance. “Look, Bucky, I didn’t—that was two years ago. And I don’t know what possessed me to say those things.” His chest tightened up anxiously, but it was fine, this was good, he’d have some closure, and if he was lucky, he’d be on good terms with Bucky. Who was very pretty. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is: I’m sorry.”

Bucky gaped at Steve, and Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat, busying himself with his drink as he waited for—something. “It’s… it’s okay,” he croaked. “Thanks. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” Steve gave him a small smile. “We’re good now, okay? I promise.”

Bucky nodded, looking just as relieved as Steve felt. “Yeah, okay, cool.”

Steve saw Clint pump his fist in the air behind the counter not-so-subtly out of the corner of his eye.

__________

Steve visited every day during his break.

Bucky was less shy and anxious around him now, sometimes even cracking jokes with him, sometimes holding small talk with him, and no matter what he did, it felt perfect. Steve… was having fun. For the first time in years.

Sometimes, he didn’t even get anything besides a cup of water, and Bucky would still treat it like it was the most precious thing in the world as he carried it over to his table.

Bucky set down his coffee in front of him, beaming. “For you.”

Steve laughed. “Bucky, I’m—god, you’re gonna turn me into an addict.”

Bucky smiled shyly. “That’s okay. It just means you’ll keep coming back here, won’t it?”

Steve melted. “Aw, shit.” He grinned. “You’re a real charmer.”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, yeah, says the guy in the suit.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad everything’s going well for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve said warmly. “You—I didn’t know you’d still be here, actually.” He took a sip. “Thought you’d have, well, I dunno. Moved on.”

“Oh!” Bucky shuffled his feet, and he scratched at the back of his neck in a way, cheeks rosy. “Yeah, well, I mean. No Fortune 500 company wants a college dropout. I’ve tried, but not much success.”

Shit. “Sorry. That was rude.”

“‘s fine. It’s true. I mean, two years is a long time.”

That was true. Two years was a long time. Two years and Steve had changed. Maybe Bucky could, too. If Steve helped. And he wanted to. Bucky was… Bucky was the biggest sweetheart Steve had ever met. He already knew Pepper would be charmed by him, would love him, maybe even take him under her wing like she’d done for Steve, and that was good, because then Bucky would get a promotion—

You mean if it’s good because it means you get to see more of his cute ass— shut up.

Steve sipped his drink thoughtfully, then— fuck it. “I could try to help,” he said. “Pepper—my boss—she’s looking for another assistant. Well, assistant to her assistant, I guess, would be a better way to explain it. So, a personal assistant for me. It’s at Stark Industries.” He shrugged. “I already know you—” Barely. “—so it’s not like making a recommendation would be odd. Networking.”

Bucky gaped at him. “You’re—oh my god, you’re insane.”

Steve laughed, surprised. “Am I?”

“Yes!” Bucky spluttered. “I just—you can’t just offer a job like that, Steve.”

“Why the hell not? It’s my assistant, Pepper won’t care.” He shrugged. She really wouldn’t. Bucky continued to stare disbelievingly, and Steve suddenly began to wonder if it’d been the wrong decision, if he’d pushed too hard, too fast, too— Shhh. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? ‘s what friends do for each other.” Steve waited, then broke into a grin at the expression on Bucky’s face. He was pretty sure Bucky would be at a loss for words for the next five minutes, when—

“And does being your personal assistant entail some action behind the scenes at home?”

Steve choked on his drink, coughing, his face glowing with heat.

Bucky looked equally mortified and taken aback by the words that had left his mouth, and he cried out, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I swear I didn’t—”

“Bucky!” Steve spluttered. “You’re fine! It’s fine!”

Bucky was still red in the face, and he was back to not looking Steve in the eyes, which, ugh, that was progress gone one step backwards. “I’m sorry. That was so unprofessional, I didn’t—”

Steve shook his head, shoulders shaking with laughter. “No, you’re fine. We’re friends. Friends joke around, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said faintly. “Yeah, I guess so. ‘m still sorry.”

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Steve grinned and replied, “Forgiven—but only if you spell out what you meant for me.”

Bucky gaped.

Steve raised an eyebrow, and Bucky’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m waiting,” he drawled.

Bucky blushed and made a frustrated, embarrassed noise as he shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, looking hesitant as Clint and the girl bustled around behind him, clearly trying to be inconspicuous while eavesdropping. It made Steve’s lips twitch in amusement. “It’s just, I guess… you’re like, you emit rich energy now, my stupid brain just classified you—your offer as a sugar daddy thing, but as a joke, but I swear—”

Steve had been joking about earning his forgiveness, but curiosity took over against his better judgement, and he involuntarily leaned closer, but he never got to hear the rest of Bucky’s response because his phone suddenly rang out loudly in the nearly empty store, and he scowled. He snatched his phone up and the screen flashed the name TONY up at him. “Shit, I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

“Oh.” Bucky stared. “Oh, okay.”

Steve felt a pang of regret watching him back away, but there wasn’t anything he could do, not when Tony was calling him for god knew what. He picked up and when he spoke, his voice came out more curtly than he’d intended for it to, which was even worse because he knew Tony would pick up on that. “Tony.”

“Ohhh, Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve. You sound busy. Are you busy, Steve-o?” Tony drawled into the phone, then hissed, “Dummy, I swear to god, I’m gonna turn you into a pile of scraps, I’m gonna sell your parts, I’m gonna—”

“A bit,” Steve interrupted. “I was just in the middle of a conversation.” His gaze drifted to Bucky, who was cleaning up a table nearby. His cheeks reddened the slightest bit at Steve’s attention. Cute.

“Oh, really now?” God, Steve could just picture Tony wiggling his eyebrows delightedly. “That’s cute, baby, that’s real cute. Look, I need you to do something.”

“Don’t call me ‘baby.’” Steve rolled his eyes. “What is it?”

“You’ll find out. Tomorrow. Don’t ask Pepper about it. Can’t spoil the surprise, soldier. Just got excited, couldn’t help but call you about it.”

“God, Tony, you’re like, the CEO of the biggest company in the world; don’t you have better, more important things to do?” Steve chuckled fondly.

“Mm, nope.” Tony was smirking. Steve knew he was. “Now, I’ll let you go back to trying to hook up with twinks at your local cafe.”

“I— what?” Steve spluttered, and now it was his turn to get red in the face. “How do you even—”

“Byeee, Steve,” Tony sing-songed, and then the call ended.

Steve left shortly after that, because Bucky became too busy with a group of teenagers who’d come into the shop, and he could only make Pepper wait so long.

He didn’t forget to scribble his number on a napkin, though.

For networking purposes.

Totally.

__________

He waited, but his phone stayed silent for the rest of the day.

Steve had nearly given up by eleven when his phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with a message from an unknown number. He snatched it up immediately, unlocked his phone, and opened the Messages app.

Unknown Number: Hi. It’s Bucky.

Steve took the time to add Bucky to his contacts because duh, then replied.

Steve: Hey! :) Good rest of the day?

The response came immediately.

Bucky: Yeah, just got weirdly busy after our talk.

Bucky: Did you really mean it? The job thing?

Steve: Of course I did. I can’t guarantee it for sure, but I have some influence over who we hire, so. Better than nothing, right?

Bucky: Yeah, yeah.

Steve sucked the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what to say, when—

Bucky: Thank you. I appreciate it

Steve: No problem. A new (better) start to our friendship lol

Bucky: Lol yes. I promise I won’t ruin your suit this time

Steve typed out, You can ruin my suit anytime you want as a joke, but he hastily deleted it because that sounded way too sexual.

Steve: I’ll count on it ;)

Bucky: Stop by the shop tmr?

Steve: Baby, all you had to do was ask. Xoxo goodnight now

Shit. He hadn’t meant to use the pet name.

Bucky: Goodnight!!!

Bucky: <3

Okay, it was fine, then. More than fine. Bucky had sent him a heart. Steve grinned, then set his phone down to prepare for bed.

This was good. It was. It was a new friendship, and Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually made a friend, and he should be happy with himself for having the courage to apologize and come to a reconciliation with Bucky. He had no idea how this was going to end, but that didn’t matter. He was satisfied with what he had.

He most definitely should not be wishing that they were more than just friends.

#stucky #steve/bucky #stevebucky #steve x bucky #buckybarnesbingo2021 #coffee shop au #dom!steve #sub!bucky #my fics #lmk if u wanna be tagged for part 2 or smth <3

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hypnomicimagines · 3 years

Text

In Another Life [Jinguji Jakurai]

You don’t know what you did to end up on the receiving end of a knife.

You had been peacefully slumbering, your parents in the next room over having finally quieted down after an extended fight that you hoped would lead to a divorce. It was a bit dark to think such things but you were a teenager now, you were beginning to understand adult issues and you could tell that there was something hovering over them causing these outbursts. Perhaps separating wouldn’t be in their best interest but you were simply tired of the yelling, of the constant negativity, of the inability to exist in your own house without having to be stressed about when the next fight was coming.

You fell asleep thinking about them but your dreams had been far more pleasant, a technicolor daydream of another life, one where you were unapologetically happy.

And then you woke up to a knife to your throat.

Your eyes met your attackers briefly, a chill coursing through your veins at that complete lack of emotion in them. You were used to being surrounded by anger and hatred, but there was something foreign about this look. It’s like his eyes (you thought it was a man, a boy, but it was rather dark) were devoid of any emotion, telling you ‘this isn’t personal’; luckily you were feeling enough emotions for both of you but remained too afraid to move, frozen in place as you lock eyes with your attacker.

What were you feeling now? Acceptance? You wished you could say goodbye to your parents. Would this mystery man at least let you do that? There are a thousand thoughts running through your head but you notice as time ticks on that he’s unmoving, that he can’t seem to tear his eyes off of you. You almost want to ask if he’s okay despite how nonsensical it would be to do so flinching when he finally moved. The knife is no longer pressed to your throat and as he’s pulling away, a sliver of moonlight drifting in through your window reveals that his hands are shaking.

Was he as scared as you were?

Was he feeling regret?

You don’t get an answer, your vision blurring before you’re left alone in your room once more. You almost think that he was simply a hallucination before you feel something wet sliding down your neck, fingers coming up to curiously feel around the area, stained red with your blood. You sat up from your bed and ripped the covers off, running screaming down the hall for your mother as you suddenly realized something bad had almost happened. The rest of the night is filled with your screams, your tears, life as you knew it ending.

You didn’t think much of it now that you were an adult.

You had a fulfilling career, owning a club of your own in Shinjuku where you often hosted costume nights and other little celebrations to give people a respite from their boring day jobs. You loved greeting all types of customers, making long-lasting friendships that might benefit you in the long-run, working until the wee hours of the morning when you finally dragged yourself home (though there was a backroom at the club that you sometimes made a temporary place of rest as you got too exhausted to walk back to your apartment). Your life had been on a steady track for such a long time you didn’t think anything else could possibly upset it, after all, what could be more senselessly tragic then finding the dead bodies of your own parents?

You had run into their room that night and thankfully, the carnage had been mostly hidden by the dark but the scent of copper hitting your nose made you realize quickly what had happened. Had that same person who ominously loomed over you killed your parents first? Or had it simply been a job done by multiple people at once? You didn’t want to think too deeply about it, for the sake of your sanity you knew you couldn’t play detective, but for many people it left a pressing question in the back of their minds.

Why did it happen? Why were you left alive?

All you knew was that you were alive. You had lived through that night, being shown some odd sliver of mercy from that dark, emotionless figure, and you weren’t going to squander what you had been given. You would live your life, unquestioning, mourning your parents but doing your best to live a life that would make them proud.

You met him one cold December night, walking down the street with an unfortunate number of shopping backs in your arms. They weren’t difficult or too heavy for you to hold but you were looking forward to being home, hoping that you’d get there soon so you could decorate your home with the new decorations you’d had. You were deep in thought when you’re suddenly bumped into by a gaggle of squealing women, eyebrow raised as you hear them speaking of some type of rap battle going on. You had been curious about the upcoming DRB, of course everyone and their mother had been talking about Matenro in Shinjuku, but you found yourself too busy to look too far into it.

But there they were.

The blonde was the number one host in Shinjuku, you’d passed the billboards countless times, and the other one was the most exhausted looking office worker you had ever seen. At first their leader, the one with long flowing hair adorned in a doctor’s coat, had his faced turned in the opposite direction, politely greeting some fans that had the courage to approach them. His mannerisms made him seem polite enough but those women were swooning, leaving you curious as to what he looked like. He had to be a bombshell, right? No one acts like that for some average joe.

And then he turns toward you, his eyes drifting through the crowd until they meet yours.

You’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

They’re different for sure, they’re no longer blank but filled with an emotion that you’re not aware of. You are, however, aware of how hard this man is staring at you now and as confident as you are in your looks, you’re pretty sure he’s recognized you as well. For a second you have to wonder if this is the end of the line, if this man is about to actually take you out since you know some rather scandalous information about him, but then again how could you ever prove it? It takes all the will power in your body to tear your eyes away from him, pushing back into the crowd that had slowly started to form around Matenro until you’d managed to sneak into an alley.

Your night continues unimpeded, thankfully no man is standing by your bedside when you wake up the following afternoon; you’re almost a little disappointed as he looked far more beautiful after all these years, you certainly wouldn’t have minded getting a house call from him. The trauma you had gone through was really rearing its ugly head with your sense of humor but it was amusing in the end to see that your potential assassin had turned his life around into not only becoming a doctor, but also a famous rapper. You almost wished you had approached him just to see what he would say, what he would do, but that plan had officially been canceled as you suspected you wouldn’t see the man again for a very long time.

That night was when he came for his first visit to your club.

You spot him sitting at the bar and he’s rather hard to miss, not to mention he’s so recognizable that you’d have to be blind not to realize who he was. Doing a quick internet search helped you refresh your memory on his name, Jinguji Jakurai, and there were quite a few articles about what a skilled doctor he had turned out to be (as well as his past experience being in a famous rap group which was often compared to the group he was part of now). Did his teammates know who he was? Did they know what he did? Or were they just as blissfully unaware?

“Did you come back to finish the job?”

You shoo away the bartender before speaking with Jakurai, knowing this is a conversation you’d like to deal with one on one. The club wasn’t technically open yet but he must’ve talked his way inside by flashing a handsome smile; you could only imagine all the things that smile of his could get him. You don’t get to see it as he doesn’t find your joke nearly as funny as you do, almost flinching as you bring up a past he likely wants to forget about. You have to deal with the reality of that past though and so does he, regardless of how you both personally feel about it. But you’re curious as to what this visit is about, ready to call for security at any given moment should things go south.

Jakurai takes a few moments to respond, taking a sip from his grapefruit juice (you noticed the lack of alcohol in his drink right away) before he responds.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” His hands remain wrapped around his glass, Jakurai casting a contemplative glass at its contents.

“That’s fair enough because I can say the exact same thing. But… Why are you here, exactly? Did you want a thank you for not killing me? Because like thanks and all, but you still got my parents so we’re not exactly even in my book.” Another wince of pain, but he takes your shot with grace, nodding his head as you continued on. “I’m glad to see life’s been treating you so well, Doc, but mines been a mess. So what is it that you want?”

“To apologize,” Jakurai stated firmly, eyes coming to meet yours. “For all the pain that I have caused you.”

“Your apology isn’t accepted.” He’s not at all surprised which sort of pisses you off, of course this assassin rapper man has it more together than you. There are long buried emotions beginning to bubble to the surface and you consider grabbing his glass to dump the contents all over him, Jakurai removing his hands from it as though he had read your mind. But as quickly as the anger bubbled up it simmered down, your heart still hammering in your chest as you tried to regain control of your emotions. “Can you at least tell me why? Did you… Were you the one who did it?”

“…I didn’t. I don’t believe that would make you feel any better about what happened but I… You were the first person who made me truly believe that I could no longer live the life I was living.” Jakurai’s voice softened, “You were like a light in the darkness, too bright to look at yet I couldn’t bring myself to look away. I wanted to thank you as well for all that you’ve done for me but it didn’t seem right to do it in the same breath.”

“You… I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to think of this. You’re thanking me? You didn’t kill my parents but you were definitely about to kill me but you… stopped because I was some light to you? Some person who made you realize killing other people was wrong? You know how that sounds, right?”

“There’s a lot in my life I wish to atone for.” Jakurai flashed that handsome smile that had gotten him into your club early, “I don’t expect your forgiveness but it wouldn’t feel right to be reunited with you without expressing my regrets.”

He stood from the bar and placed money on the counter, straightening himself out and brushing his hair from his shoulder as he prepared to leave. It felt wrong to leave it there, to allow him to exit your life once again as quickly as he had entered it, especially when you felt you were still owed something. You reached across the bar to grab at his sleeve, tugging on it and watching as Jakurai turned around with a surprised expression on his face.

“Just.. come perform here or somethin’, okay? Get me some business and maybe I’ll start to think about forgiving you. Maybe.”

Jakurai smiled but this time it was more amused in nature, as if he didn’t expect something like that from you.

“As you wish.”

And your wishes were fulfilled.

You met Hifumi and Doppo through Jakurai, listening to them both speak highly of their leader and all that he had done for them. For all intents and purposes, it seemed he truly had turned over a new leaf, as far as they knew anyway. He hadn’t really given you any reason to doubt his change in character, even now when you look into his eyes you could tell something had changed within him, and Jakurai did uphold his promise to have Matenro perform. He even came back whenever the three of them weren’t busy, increasing publicity for the club further as now it was assumed you were good friends of the three rappers instead of just a one-off gig.

You could say that was very close to what was happening.

You were fond of Hifumi and Doppo, you always threw free drinks at poor Doppo who came in to complain about his boss and laughed at all of Hifumi’s stories that were at Doppo’s expense. Chatting with them had been much too fun for you to cut it short so you spent your nights at the club with them at their VIP table, Jakurai quietly watching the interactions between the three of you with a content expression on his face. You didn’t know how happy it made him to see the three important people in his life getting along well, you probably hadn’t even guessed how important you truly were to him just yet.

“I still see you as that light,” Jakurai confessed one night after the club had closed, not a hint of shame on his face, “However, now that I’ve gotten to know you… You’ve become so much more to me. It feels out of line to say such things after all I’ve done…”

“Yeah, it sure does.” You feel a little awkward now because you felt the exact same way, completely fascinated by this man, enamored with him like a lot of the women in his life seemed to be. Yet you were the one who got to be close to him like this, who got to sit face-to-face alone with him while he wasn’t on the job, and that had to count for something. “But you… You mean a lot more to me now, too.”

This is the first time you’ve ever seen a look of genuine surprise on his face but you quite liked the way his eyes raised and the corner of his mouth twitched, not sure if he should smile or frown at your statement. He let out a sigh but he it was out of relief more than anything, knowing he didn’t deserve even that out of you after what he had done. To find love with the one target he couldn’t kill… How many sleepless nights had he spent thinking of you, worrying over what might have become of you?

“This is like, kinda fucked up, you know? Like what type of weird way to meet is ‘I almost killed you but realized I couldn’t and now we’re in love’? Like seriously, there’s gotta be like ten trashy, poorly written romance novels about-“

You continued to ramble on nervously, knowing this hardly made sense but at the same time who cared? This was your life after all, and if you wanted a pretty doctor to kiss you to make you feel better, then you would get it! Past be damned, you were going to take this God given gift of a man and use him for all he was worth.

Jakurai’s fingers gently touch your face, running along your jaw towards the small scar, the scar he had made, before he suddenly shied away. But you don’t want him to leave, you crave his touch now, putting his hand right back where it was and looking up at him with pure determination. There were heavy sins weighing him down, resting on his shoulders, but he had only been a child himself, something that made forgiving him a little easier to swallow. You believed him when he said he hadn’t been the one to kill your parents and you believed him when he said he was remorseful for the lasting impact he had on your life.

“Jakurai, I’ve come up with a way to forgive you.”

“Is that right?” Jakurai’s smiling his beautiful ethereal smile that always causes your heart to skip a beat, “How might I be of service?”

“Kiss me.”

“I have a lifetime of mistakes to make up for,” Jakurai whispered against your lips, hands cradling your face in a loving manner, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You say that yet…” You reached over to run your fingers through his silky hair, twirling a strand of it around your finger, “I can’t account for your other mistakes but that doesn’t matter to me now. You’ve changed for the better, you save lives every day, so as long as you keep doing that… I think that I… I forgive you, Jakurai. So please, accept my heart and protect it.”

Those words he never thought he would hear finally reach his ears and he’s so filled with joy he could hardly contain himself, brief tears gathering at the corner of his eyes before he leans in to press his lips against yours. You want to pull away, to tease that he had only kissed you now because he was trying to hide the overflowing emotions he was currently dealing with, but it felt far too good to leave Jakurai’s embrace now.

If you could help it, you’d never have to live without his embrace again.

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