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wherevermyway · 4 years ago

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step out! do what you want (chapter five)

pairings: reader/bang chan, reader/han jisung  side pairings: established changbin/minho, reader/bang chan/han jisung rating: explicit | 18+ warnings: angst, violence, mention of firearms, description of graphic injuries, profanity, more dirty smut (including a threesome again, but this time with double the penetration lol and double the lack of protection) because I am trash. also, jisung is a bratty little shit because of course he is. drug dealer!au, organized crime!au. word count: about 6,500 also posted to my AO3 here! chapter/series navigation

chapter five: do you want to live forever?

recommended tracks: haunt // bed by the 1975, devil in the details by placebo, nevermind by dennis lloyd, cypher part 3: killer by bts rapline, boxer by stray kids, hyung by dumbfoundead, black swan (stranger things mashup) by bts/seokjinnie, call on me by eric prydz; boom by nct dream; roller coaster by tomorrow x together, how do you sleep? by sam smith, obsession by exo, after hours by the weeknd, part time god by the bad dreamers. playlist can be found here!

note: this chapter took forever and a year for me to write. hopefully, it’s up to everyone’s standards after that cliffhanger! (don’t worry, I brought back some good ol’ smut because I’m a skanky hoe.)

disclaimer: any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

side note: for the love of minho’s cats, don’t mix party drugs or drugs with alcohol.

“I don’t miss from this close.”

The world stopped as you stared down the barrel of Changbin’s pistol. His face was emotionless, staring down at you, waiting for you to say something - specifically, he wanted you to say the right thing.

You’re unable to form a coherent sentence, unintelligible noises come babbling up from your throat, too terrified to even plead for your life. Tears start building up in the corner of your eyes as your body starts to tremble.

Jisung shakes his head, standing in between both of you. He lifts his hands to the air, slowly stepping in between Changbin’s pistol and you. “Changbin-hyung,” he says, his voice shockingly calm. “It’s not her fault. I don’t have definitive proof, but I will risk my life for her on this.”

Changbin’s expression doesn’t change. He rolls his eyes up to meet Jisung’s and moves his arm to aim the pistol at him, touching the gun to his forehead as he cocks it. “You’d bet your life on it?”

“Jisung,” you manage to weakly squeak out. The tears that had been building up start pouring down your cheeks, unable to be stopped. First, you had almost lost Christopher. Now you were about to lose Jisung.

“Absolutely.” Jisung is reserved, stoic in his resolve. “I need you to trust me, Changbin-hyung. Please.”

Changbin scoffs, rolling his head to the side. He disarms the pistol, tucking it back into its holster. He turns back to Jisung, running his tongue over his teeth. Suddenly, he winds up a punch and decks the silver-haired man right in the face, causing him to land on the floor with a thud.

“What the fuck?” Jisung shouts, grabbing his face.

“Don’t you ever do that to one of your superiors again. Your hyungs’ orders are absolute, even if you disagree with them. If you ever interfere like this again, I will break your fucking kneecaps.” Changbin spits out, rubbing his knuckles. “Got it?”

Jisung squints at Changbin in disbelief, but nods his head. “Understood, hyung.”

“Good. As for you,” Changbin looks directly into your eyes, taking a couple of steps closer until he’s at the edge of the bed. He grabs your jaw with a firm grip. “If I find out that you’re working for them, I absolutely will kill you. No questions asked. I don’t care if Jisung or Chan protest. Nobody fucks with my family. Nobody fucks with me.”

His words, laden with venom, cause your blood to run cold. You weakly nod your head, as best as you could with his hand holding your jaw in place. He lets go of your face with an aggressive push. Changbin turns away from both of you.

Jisung sits up, looking at you with a mortified expression. You could feel his sympathy from where you sat, knowing that he was as terrified as you. He’s about to open up his mouth to speak, but Changbin beats him to it.

“Minho found out that your phone was being tracked. Said he added his number to your phone, unlocking it after guessing your passcode a couple of times. It concerned him, so he was able to gain access to your phone and take a look remotely. He just found the tracker while I was at the hospital with Chan.”

The realization that your phone had compromised you had caused your heart to drop to your stomach. It was your fault that all of you were in this mess, that Christopher was holding on to his life in the hospital. Your face falls, and you hold it in your hands. How was this possible?

“I’ve got a burner for you,” Changbin says, tossing a basic phone on the bed in front of you. “There’s nothing fancy about it, but it has our numbers in it in case you need anything.” You weakly nod your head in acceptance.

“What’s happening with Chan-hyung now?” Jisung speaks up, working himself to his feet. He wobbles a bit, then walks to the bed, sitting down next to you. The spot that Changbin punched is starting to bruise up.

Changbin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He unceremoniously flops on to the foot of the bed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Chan is fine for now.” You allow yourself a sigh of relief. “However, the bullet damaged his clavicle and he lost about a litre and a half of blood. I’m sure he’ll be released in no time, but he’s going to be out of commission for a while. “

You were relieved that Christopher was going to be okay, but waiting was going to be hell. “What do we do now?” You ask Changbin, hoping that you can make yourself useful.

He swivels his head to look at you and sighs deeply. “Honestly? I’m not totally sure yet. I just need the three of you to stay here until I figure more of this shit out.”

And wait you did. Time passed a snail’s pace while you waited in the small apartment. Felix was there for a few days, but didn’t say much. He was replaced by Seungmin, and he shared some entertaining conversations to pass the time. The next week, Minho was there, and you were relieved to see a face you recognized. He helped everything seem to go a bit smoother with his witty humour.

It had to have been about two, maybe three, weeks since your altercation with Changbin. You had avoided checking the days, since you knew that would just make everything go that much slower.

“Hey, bunny?” You heard Jisung’s voice call for you from the bedroom. He walked into the living room, staring at his phone, as he came to sit next to you and Minho.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Changbin-hyung. He’s coming over and wanted to make sure you were awake.” Jisung sets his phone down on the coffee table, then relaxes back into the couch and sighs. “He didn’t say what it was, he just said it was important and he’d be here in, like, twenty minutes.”

“Huh,” Minho sighs, checking his phone as he leans back into the couch. “He hasn’t even told me. It’s probably something pretty important, then.”

The next twenty minutes dragged on as slowly as humanly possible. You, Jisung, and Minho all sat on the couch in silence, staring off into the wall.

“That’s it,” you hear a calm, soothing voice come from behind the front door. The three of you all snap your heads in that direction, and, as Jisung stands, his phone goes off. “No, you can’t - goddammit,” the voice calls again as the door handle rattles.

Jisung grabs his phone, checks it, then shoves it into his pocket. “It’s locked,” he says, advancing towards the front door. He fumbles with the lock a bit until it clicks and recedes into its cavern. “I listened to you this time, hyung,” Jisung says with a smirk as he opens the door. His face falls as soon as the door opens all the way, shocked at what he’s seeing.

“Since when do you listen?” The voice that drifts through the door is familiar, and it makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. A cold sweat comes over you as you stare at the doorway.

It’s Christopher.

Your feet start to move before you even register it. It’s almost like your brain is on autopilot as you beeline your way into his arms.

“Ow,” Christopher groans as you squeeze his ribs, “injured shoulder, injured shoulder.”

“Oh my god,” you hastily let go of Christopher, then take his face into your hands. “It’s you. It’s really you. You’re alive.”

Christopher smiles, then leans down to kiss your lips. “Hey, baby. Don’t worry, I can’t be taken out that easily.” Jisung comes closer and leans his elbow on Christopher’s good shoulder.

“Took you long enough,” the silver-haired man quips. “And here I was worried you were actually gonna die for a minute.” Christopher groans and rolls his eyes at Jisung.

“Come on,” Changbin says, placing his hand on the small of Christopher’s back and ushering him to the couch. “Let the poor guy sit down.”

“Ah, Bin,” Christopher grumbles as he walks with Changbin, “I’ve been resting for two and a half weeks straight. I don’t really need to sit down that badly.”

“I don’t care,” Changbin says, guiding the blond-haired man to the cushion. “I need you at peak condition as soon as I can get you there” He sits down next to Christopher and motions for you and Jisung to sit down. “I have important news.”

Jisung sits on the floor behind the coffee table, letting you have the spot next to Christopher on the couch. Minho leans up against the wall and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“I found the person that’s been tracking you,” Changbin says as he stares into your eyes. “You’re absolutely positive you’re not involved?”

You vigorously shake your head. “Of course not. Why would I want to bring harm to a bunch of guys I barely know?”

“Because,” Changbin says, slicking his hand back through his hair. “You know who the threat is. You know them very well, actually.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare Changbin down.

“It’s your friend Minji.” Your eyes fly open and you sit back. “I don’t know if it’s just her, or if it’s something more than her, but she’s involved. You sent a pin of your location to her your first night with Chan, and that’s how they found you both.”

Your head was spinning. There was no way that Minji could ever or would ever want to hurt you. Right? “There’s no way that’s true,” you manage to squeak out, staring at the floor in disbelief. “Minji would never involve herself with something like that.”

“But she did,” Changbin sighs. “Like I said, I don’t know if it’s just her or not. It’s going to take some time to figure everything out, but once I do, I’m taking care of it.”

“Taking care of it?” You perk up cautiously.

Changbin hums, then looks to the floor. There’s an awkward silence as you wait for him to speak up. “She won’t be an issue anymore.” Christopher turns to look at him, then swivels his head around to look at you, eyes wide with shock.

You furrow your brows as you look at Christopher, then to Changbin. Your jaw drops as you realize exactly what he means. “No,” you manage to whimper out, then jump to your feet. “You’re not going to kill Minji, are you?”

Changbin sighs and rolls his eyes. “I already told you,” he says, standing up to be eye-level with you. “Nobody fucks with my family and nobody fucks with me. She’s a threat and needs to be eliminated.”

“How can you even be sure?” You’re practically yelling at Changbin now. There was no way that your friend was really in the middle of all of this.

“I have my sources,” Changbin grunts, folding his arms. “You’re not going to be able to change my mind on this. Besides, how do you think you ended up at the same place as Hyunjin and Chan that night? How do you think both of them got shot within a couple of days? It all adds up. She was using you as a cog in her machine.”

There was no way this was true.

Changbin reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket, then flops a stack of papers on the table. “If you don’t believe me, then look at this. I have copies of her text messages from the week prior to the Itaewon house party, along with some other damning things in there. Why do you think you were caught up in a picture with Chan, but she wasn’t in a picture with Hyunjin? Both of you were at the same party at the same time. Bit suspicious, isn’t it?”

You start to thumb through the papers Changbin provided. Sure enough, the copies of the text messages Minji had sent to an unknown number proved him right. Starting from a couple of nights before you both went to that party, copies of conversations the two of you had before the party, including the messages you had sent each other after you parted, and the message with Christopher’s apartment’s location forwarded to some random number.

It was mind-boggling. You had known Minji for over a year now, so to be betrayed like this was a shock. She was your first and only friend you had from work. How long had she ben planning this?

The papers fell from your hands as you grabbed your face. “This can’t be true. There’s no way,” you whispered, falling to your knees. “Minji would never do this to me.”

“She did, though,” Changbin said with a sigh, folding his arms. “I don’t know if she intended for you to get involved in all of this or not, but here we are. I’ve gotta take care of this.” He reoriented himself, making eye contact with Minho and Jisung. “Can I trust this,” he motioned in a circle in front of you, “to you?”

You see Minho nod from the corner of your eye. Changbin starts to make his way for the door, but you instinctively reach out and grab his pant leg. “Please,” you whisper, unable to look at him, “please don’t do this to her. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Changbin groans heavily, and you swear you can hear him roll his eyes. “You saw the messages. I don’t know how else to convince you that your so-called ‘friend’ is not who she says she is.” He tugs his leg free from your grasp and continues walking to the door. “I’m not risking this, not for the family. Chan and Hyunjin were already injured, and that grievance is too large for me to forgive.”

He opens the door, and closes it with a slam. You swear you heard him apologize, but it easily could have been a figment of your imagination.

“Baby,” Christopher says, softly, reaching his good arm out to grab your shoulder, “I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do once Changbin sets his mind on something, especially if it’s something to protect the family.”

Your eyes fall on a piece of paper in front of you, and you grab it in your hands, pulling it to your face to look at it. The paper has screenshots of text messages from Minji’s phone number transcribed on it.

Yeah, she’s there now.

Best thing that could have happened, now we know where he is.

No, I don’t care. She’s expendable.

It’s orders from the top. You need to take BC out. It’ll dismantle their whole group.

Why the fuck didn’t you kill him? I just got word that he survived.

I’m going to have one of the guys kill you then clean up your mistake.

The messages from Minji seem surreal. You had no idea that she had this side to her. How much had she been hiding all this time? Did she really believe you were expendable?

Jisung leans down next to you, whispering your name. “It’s okay, bunny,” his voice is soft as he reaches up to rub the tears off of your face. “We’ll get through this.”

Christopher groans on his way to the floor, but he makes his way down right next to you. “Sung is right, baby. This is just a blip in the road. We’ve got you.”

Minho’s phone goes off, and he walks past the three of you. “Looks like Binnie changed his mind and needs my help. I’m going to take off, but Jeongin will be here to watch over in an hour or something.”

You stare at your hands, noticing they don’t even feel like an extension of your body anymore. They’re just there, somehow attached to your body. Nothing even feels real at this point. This entire month has been an absolute shitshow, and nothing could really surprise you at this point.

“What the fuck,” you manage to squeak out after a tense silence. “I thought I knew Minji.”

Jisung pulls you to his arms, tightly gripping your shoulders. “There’s no way you could have predicted this. I bet she didn’t even plan to have you be a part of this at first, that’s just the way it happened.”

In the back of your mind, everything started to fall into place. You very distinctly recall Minji pressing you to come to this stupid house party, even though you weren’t feeling it. “Minji,” you grumbled as you applied your mascara, “I’m not gonna stay for very long. I’m just gonna go in, have a drink or two, then leave. Is that fine?”

“Yes! Yes, babe, that’s great,” Minji said with a smile, winking to you in the mirror as she applied her last layer of lipstick. “Nobody wants to show up to a party alone, and nobody wants to leave a party alone. Maybe we’ll find some cute guys while we’re there?”

When you were at the party and she ducked off within minutes, it didn’t make sense. “Oh, I just saw my ex, I’ll only be gone for a minute,” she said, but she disappeared for the rest of the night. Now, in hindsight, everything made sense. She knew that Hyunjin and Christopher were at the party, and you were lucky enough to capture Christopher’s attention. She may not have intended for it to happen, but it did, and she was probably beside herself with excitement.

You shook your head, frantically running your fingers through your hair as you pulled yourself from the memory. “What the fuck is happening? How could she use me like this?” You broke away from Jisung, turning around to look at both him and Christopher. They just exchange concerned glances with each other and say nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You exclaim with a loud sigh, falling back on to the floor and staring at the ceiling. Your eyes were burning with tears that stung of your betrayal. Minji was your only friend from work, the only friend you really bothered to make and keep since you moved here. To be betrayed by her like this was another level of pain.

“Bunny,” Jisung whispers, grabbing your arm. “It’s going to be okay, maybe not right now, but we’ll get through this.”

“You don’t understand, Jisung,” you yell at him through tears, “Minji was my only close friend. After you and I split, she was the only real friend I had to vent to. To know that my entire friendship with her was a fucking lie?”

Jisung sits back on his heels, biting his lip and turning away from you. He mouths something to Christopher, but you can’t make out whatever he says. You don’t care at this point, honestly, because this whole situation is a nightmare.

“Alright, alright,” Christopher sighs, working his way to be closer to you. “No more of this pity party. It’s not on you to feel bad for her behaviour. She’s the one that fucked you over, now you need to acknowledge it and move on.”

“Chan,” Jisung starts, a bit of shock to his voice, “don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?”

You want to agree with Jisung, but you know that, deep down inside, Christopher is right. You drag your hands over your face and sit upright. “He’s right, though,” you say with a groan. “As much as I don’t want to admit it, he’s right. She fucked it up on her own accord. I can be mad at her for this later.”

“That’s the spirit,” Christopher says, wrapping his good arm around your shoulders, “I’m not saying don’t be angry. Absolutely, let yourself be angry. But we need to figure out what we’re going to do next, alright?”

The three of you chatted for a while, and eventually Jeongin showed up, bringing some takeout from a pasta restaurant just up the street. It was a relatively uneventful dinner, some jokes springing up between the acquainted men, leaving you a bit out of the loop as you sat on and watched.

Your mind couldn’t help but travel to think about if Changbin had found Minji yet. If he found her, was she dead? You could swear that you heard her whispering your name on the wind as it drifted in from the window.

“Hey,” Jisung waved his hand in front of your face, “Are you alive in there?” The voice you were hallucinating wasn’t Minji’s, it was just Jisung, saying your name over and over as he tried to get your attention. “I was worried you had mentally checked out on us. How are you doing?” He reached his arm around you, his hand soothingly rubbing on your back.

“Oh,” you manage to squeak out, “yeah, sorry, I was just distracted.”

“Alright,” Christopher says, looking at Jisung as he stands up. “I have an idea. But I need you to grab her and bring her with, since I’m out of commission.” Christopher ducks off into the bedroom without waiting for Jisung’s response.

“Way ahead of you,” Jisung smiles, turning to Jeongin, “sorry, man, it’s gonna be a busy night without you. You cool?”

The young man with black hair waves his hand in the air dismissively as he pulls out his phone, stretching out onto the couch. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, “I’ll keep myself plenty entertained. Maybe I’ll watch one of those American programmes on TV. Brush up on my English or something.”

You’re about to open your mouth to protest, but Jisung scoops you up in his arms and throws you over his shoulder. “Come on,” he says with a perk in his voice, “we could all use this, just a little break from reality.” He brings you into the bedroom, tossing you on the bed next to Christopher. He closes the door behind him, then flops down on the bed in between both of you.

“Is this what you had in mind?” Jisung perks up, asking Christopher specifically. The blond laughs, bringing his hands behind his head.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Christopher says with a cocky smile on his face. “I can’t really do much, though,” he whines, “but I don’t mind watching you two entertain each other while I sit back.”

“You heard the man,” Jisung smirks as he rolls over on top of you. “He wants a show, so I guess we gotta give him one.”

“Oi,” Christopher interjects, “I would just like to point out that I never said you had to do anything. But, it would be nice to have a little fun. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen you guys and I could really use the stress relief,” his voice trails off as he leans back onto the headboard. “I’m fine with just taking care of it myself, too.”

Jisung crawls up to the spot right next to Christopher. “I want to watch,” he says with a wide grin as he looks at both of you.

“I don’t care,” Christopher sighs before moving to undo his jeans. “I’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” Jisung leans over to Christopher, lightly grabbing his face.

“Don’t worry, hyung,” he says with a giggle, “I’m just teasing. We’ll help you out.” Jisung presses his lips to Christopher, motioning for you to hurry up with his free hand. Christopher pushes back into Jisung, grabbing his hair with his good hand.

You watch the guys wrestle with each other a bit before you wiggle your way up into Christopher’s lap, completely undoing his pants for him. The blond groans with relief into the silver-haired man’s lips, clearly relieved to be free from the restraint of his pants. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” the blond mutters, “like, you’re not my type, Jisung, but,”

Jisung bites down on Christopher’s bottom lip, hard enough to make the older man squeal, “Yeah, are you really gonna complain about it right now, though? Because I’d be happy to stop.”

Christopher glares at the younger man, “I’m injured. Can you give me a break?”

“Aww,” Jisung mocks Christopher, jokingly pushing in his cheeks with his fingertips. “Poor boss, thinking that getting shot on the job is such a good idea. Bet that’ll teach you not to get shot next time?”

You balk at Jisung’s words, looking at him with wide eyes. Did he really just say that to his superior? Christopher catches your eye, noticing your shock. “Don’t worry,” he groans, waving his hand dismissively, “Jisung is a brat sometimes. I’ll let him have it for now, but he knows he should watch his tongue. Once I’m recovered, you’re fucked.”

Jisung scoffs. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try, tough guy.” Christopher whips his head back in disbelief, about to say something, but you interrupt both of them, sticking your hands in their faces.

“Can you save whatever this is for later?” You try to plead, but Jisung simply rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, I’ll stop whenever Chan-hyung clearly stops enjoying this,” he says with a smirk, looking down at Christopher’s lap, then up to you. Chris groans, gritting his teeth at Jisung’s nickname.

“The nickname, I told you,” he starts, but Jisung brings his finger to Christopher’s lips.

“Shush,” he whispers, and replaces his finger with his lips for a quick, soft kiss. “Come on, it’s your turn to do something, bunny, give him something to finally shut up over.”

Watching your (maybe?) ex-boyfriend tease your (maybe?) current boyfriend was a lot for you to mentally (and physically, in some regards) handle. Christopher turned to you, his eyes half open, and his mouth slightly agape.

“What is it?” You softly whisper, positioning yourself directly on top of Christopher’s lap, placing your hands on either side of his jaw, angling his face to be just under yours.

“Come on,” Christopher whines, grinding his pelvis up into yours, “you know what I want after all this time.”

“It’s only been a couple weeks,” Jisung quips, smirking at you as he leans up against the headboard. “Doesn’t seem like that long to me, no?”

Christopher groans and digs his good hand into your thigh. “Are you both seriously going to make me beg for it?”

You and Jisung eye each other, giving each other a smirk before turning your attention back to Christopher. “We can’t push you too hard, “ you say with a slight whine, grinding your hips down into his, “it would be bad for the healing process.”

Christopher rolls his eyes at you, giving you a completely deadpan look. “Are you fucking joking?”

“Oh!” Jisung gasps with feigned despair. “It could be too much physical activity if you move around too much. We can’t bump your arm around or anything, it would probably cause problems.”

“Oh my god,” Christopher whines, “I’m not gonna move my goddamn arm, I promise. Can one of you please just help me out here? My good arm has been out of service since I went out, and now I have both of you taunting me? Fucking kill me before I have to go through any more of this.”

“Okay,” you simply say, leaning down to give Christopher a deep, needy kiss. “Just promise you won’t move your arm around at all. If one of us does something that makes your arm hurt, you need to tell us, alright?”

Christopher rapidly nods his head, “Yeah, yeah, fine, just please,” he pleads with a whine, grabbing your hip with his good hand, “I want you so badly. I want to be inside you right this second. Please.”

The look that he gives you when he pleads with you makes your soul melt. It must have an effect on Jisung, too, because he makes a pointed effort to adjust himself in his spot. “I wanna watch you unravel Chan, baby,” he whispers with a devious grin. “I love that he wants you so badly.”

Christopher reorients himself against the headboard, releasing your hip from his grip. He grabs Jisung’s shoulder with his left hand, digging his fingernails into the younger man’s skin. “If you keep making comments without actions, I swear to god, I am going to rip your -“

Jisung shakes his hands in his superior’s face. “Sorry, sorry,” he pleads, “what do you want me to do?”

“Here,” you say, pulling Jisung closer to you. “Just let your hands roam around me. I’m sure you’ll elicit a reaction out of me that will pique Christopher’s interest.” Jisung nods his head to the side, agreeing with you, as he gets behind you. He helps you sneak all of your clothes off, and, by the look on Christopher’s face, it seems to be working.

Once Jisung slides your panties off, you open up the front opening to Christopher’s briefs, and waste no time mounting yourself on his cock. It’s a bit uncomfortable, since you didn’t really think ahead and prepare yourself, but you grin and bear it anyway. The look that Christopher gives you makes all of your discomfort melt away.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, letting his head fall back on the headboard. Jisung comes up from behind you, sinking his teeth into your neck and letting his hands grasp your breasts. He isn’t very subtle about it, but he’s pressing his cock up against your back, grinding up against you for some sort of stimulation.

“Looks like that’s exactly what our Chan needed, hmm?” Jisung groans into your ear, “You seem to be enjoying yourself, too, baby, yeah?”

You somehow manage to whine out some semblance of agreement, and it causes both Christopher and Jisung to tense.

Christopher rolls his head up, looking both of you in the eyes. “I have an idea,” he whimpers, “but it’s going to involve effort for both of you.”

It took effort, but within a few minutes, with a lot of lubricant that Jisung somehow managed to find, and stretching, you somehow are able to fit both Jisung and Christopher inside of you at the same time. Jisung puts in most of the physical effort, since it’s hard to find the will to get yourself to move, but it really does feel incredible.

Below you, Christopher seems to be having an otherworldly experience. His eyes are shut tightly, and he’s grabbing onto your waist with a vise grip. Jisung has one of his arms wrapped around you as best as he can, his hand stretching up in the space between your breasts. You’re trying your best not to lean up against Christopher with too much pressure, but you feel like your body is going to give out if either he or Jisung lets go of you.

When Jisung starts moving, that’s when you lose all semblance of self-control. Your voice refuses to be restrained, and you’re sure every neighbour in a twenty kilometre radius can hear you praising every deity that has ever existed. The pressure in your abdomen, albeit a bit uncomfortable, feels miraculous. You’re shouting out Christopher’s and Jisung’s names without even intending to, and the effect it’s having on them is obvious.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna,” Christopher groans deeply, letting up one thrust before he collapses into himself, moaning your name as he begins to paint your insides. “Holy fuck,” he groans again, looking up into your eyes, grabbing your face and guiding you to look at him.

The two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, before you feel Jisung dig into your sides. “Baby,” he whines, “this is so much, I’m gonna come,.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder so hard, you’re positive you start bleeding, but you don’t care at all. In fact, you welcome it.

You aren’t really sure what you tell Jisung, you just know that you welcome it. He hastily drags one of his hands down to your clit, rotating it just enough to bring you over the edge with him.

You try your best not to collapse on to Christopher as your muscles give out. Thankfully, somehow, Jisung is able to keep a hold of you, pulling you backwards on to him. The three of you take a long moment to catch your breath, before Jisung pulls you off of Christopher and back onto him.

“What,” Jisung breathes out, “the fuck was that? Did we seriously just do that?”

Christopher lets out a small cough, then a throaty laugh. “Holy shit. That seriously happened?”

You don’t really have much to say as you come back to your senses. However, you bolt upright with a look of terror in your eyes. “Oh my god,” you say with a hushed tone, “Jeongin heard us.”

Jisung lets out a cackle. “Ah,” he says, reaching out to pull you back down to his arms, “when I stepped out there earlier, I told him to go take a walk for a little bit, that we’d be fine and he wouldn’t wanna be around for what was about to happen.”

“Crafty bastard,” Christopher retorts from his spot, letting out a couple soft chuckles.

“Hey,” Jisung groans, “you may doubt me, but I have my moments, sometimes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Christopher groans in response. “Can you grab me a paracetamol or something? My arm is fucking killing me.”

You quickly sit up, instantly regretting it due to the the spinning effect you feel. “I’ve got it,” Jisung says from behind you, rolling off of the foot of the bed, digging around in one of the drawers of the dresser. He pulls out a bottle and tosses it at Christopher.

“Thanks,” the blond says, taking out a couple of small pills and swallowing them with no qualms. “Now get back here, baby,” he says to you, tossing the bottle onto the nightstand next to him, then opening his good arm to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want any water?” You ask him as you shakily pull yourself to his side.

“Don’t worry about me,” he grumbles, rotating his right arm around a bit. “Hey, you too, Jisung, get over here.”

Jisung snickers, snuggling up to your back. “What, you’re feeling soft for your blood brother?”

Christopher rolls his eyes and scoffs. “No. That was just an experience I never thought I’d cross off my list.”

“You love me,” Jisung chuckles, tossing the blanket from the end of the bed over the three of you.

“Shut up,” Christopher retorts, deliberately not offering him an affirmation or a denial.

A couple more weeks end up passing, and both you and Jisung try your hardest to help Christopher heal up his shoulder. He’s stubborn, though, trying to make things as difficult as possible at every turn. There was one time the three of you were fooling around on the couch, and Christopher nearly injured his arm even further, forgetting he couldn’t put any load-bearing weight on it. It was a crisis averted, but still a nuisance.

There were a couple of other minor problems that popped up, but the three of you had managed to laugh it off. It was weird, really, it was like you were dating both of them at the same time, but nobody really cared. Nobody got overly jealous, probably because the three of you were stuck in a small apartment together and had no other sense of release from each other.

It wasn’t a bad thing, though. You all had a strange way of working around each other’s quirks. The three of you could also sleep comfortably together on the bed, with you and Jisung alternating between the middle spot. Jisung and Christopher didn’t really know what exactly they were, but they went along with whatever it was anyways.

Sometimes they were basically dating, and other times they couldn’t stand to be around each other. It was weird when Jisung would walk past Christopher, give him a kiss on the forehead, and then continue to walk by like nothing happened. Neither of them ever really addressed it, which was peculiar, but it was what they did, and you learned to accept it.

Regardless of whatever was happening between the three of you, you made it work, and that was good enough for you. Once you were no longer in danger of being killed, and once Christopher was back to full health, the three of you could start to work towards a new normal.

It had to have been about a month since Christopher was released from the hospital, that was when Changbin came over next. It was a Saturday morning, early and unannounced. Christopher was the one that woke up to the text message from Changbin, letting you know of his presence.

Christopher didn’t have time to wake you up, only to let Changbin, Felix, and Jeongin in. You heard the three of them come through the front door, and Changbin invited himself into your bedroom.

“Get up,” he said with an assertive tone, staring you down from the doorframe. “We’ve found her. We’ve found all of them, and we need to go.”

#skzsmutnetwork #stray kids fic #skz fic #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #bang chan x han jisung x reader #chan x jisung x reader #filthy fucking smut #step out do what you want #wherevermyway

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tisfan · 6 years ago

Text

Moving Violations

Square: G5 - Carjacking Title: Moving Violations Warning: None Rating: Teen Characters: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Tags: kidnapping, carjacking, car chases, car crash Summary: This evening was not going according to plan. Now he was going to have to call the god damned police and file a fucking report and then call his insurance and file another report, and then he was going to have to call Pepper and-- Link: A03 Word Count: 2,545 Posted for @winterironbingo *also include relationship if not just winteriron

The conference was over, finally. Tony dragged his suitcase out to the car garage. He would have had the concierge do it, but it was late, the bellhops were all busy, and Tony didn’t want to wait. He wanted to get in his car, stop somewhere for an extra triple large coffee, a donut the size of his head, and get the hell out of Dodge. Or New Jersey, honestly, which was worse, and there he was anyway.

He popped the trunk, pushed his suitcase into the back, and was just straightening up when someone pushed a hard, metal thing against his back. “Gimme the keys, motherfucker, and don’t try anything funny.”

God damn it. This was not what he’d had in mind, checking out of the hotel immediately after the conference instead of waiting until morning, like everyone else. Suppressing a sigh, Tony slowly lifted his hands, letting the keys dangle.

Now he was going to have to call the god damned police and file a fucking report and then call his insurance and file another report, and then he was going to have to call Pepper and--

The car thief snagged the key fob, then shoved, pushing Tony forward into the trunk. The locking mechanism scraped against his midsection, tearing his shirt and bruising his skin. “Get it--”

There was a second man, a black ski mask pulled down to hide his face. He reached into the trunk and cut the safety cable that unlocked the trunk from the inside.

“Get in,” the first guy said, prodding Tony with the -- gun, probably -- metal thing in his back, giving him a matched bruise.

There was not a lot of room in the trunk, with the spare tire, his suitcase, and it being a sports model and not some soccer mom’s SUV.

This... was even worse. And just when Tony thought it couldn’t get any worse, Ski Mask reached in and groped at Tony’s clothes, what the fuck. “Hey, fuck you, what the--” Ski Mask shoved at Tony’s face, making him crack his head on the back of the tiny space, and came up with Tony’s phone. “Damn it, give me that!” The guy tossed it onto the floor of the parking garage with a snort, and then slammed the trunk shut, narrowly missing another crack on Tony’s head.

“Come on,” the first guy said, rushing around to the driver’s side. “Three more minutes until the window closes.”

“Not getting paid enough for this job,” Ski Mask said, but he was also getting in the car. The doors slammed, the car jerked into reverse and skidded out of the parking lot. Whoever was driving was good, Tony noted, shifting gears precisely, and handling the car well. At least, he wasn’t getting slammed around inside the tiny space.

(more under the cut)

Just to make sure, he tried pulling on the release lever, but it did nothing. Tony felt around, trying to get an idea for what was available. He found a screwdriver in his jacket pocket, and a pair of wire cutters. He couldn’t reach his pants pocket, cramped as it was, but since they’d tossed his phone, he didn’t think there was anything useful in there, anyway. A bunch of business cards, some conference swag -- pens, fidget toys, a couple of novelty condoms.

He felt around in front of him. Trunk, liner carpet-- oh! The tail light. He could... he could work with that, probably. He felt around for the screws holding it in place.

It was all kinds of awkward, trying to maneuver his arm into position to work the screwdriver, but he managed to get the cover off. He felt for the wires. There should be... yes, there. They were mounted into place, but a couple of snips with the cutters took care of that.

Now, he could make the tail light do what he wanted. He listened for a moment -- wherever they were taking him, it was on some kind of highway. Good. He tapped the wires together, carefully, making the light blink. Short-short-short-long-long-long-short-short-short. Pause. Short-short-short-long-long-long-short-short-short. Not many people knew Morse code anymore, but SOS was still pretty universal. Hopefully someone would notice and call them in.

Night driving wasn’t one of Bucky’s favorite things. Drivers tended to ignore motorcyclists with almost aggressive tenacity even during the day, and night was worse. He’d just missed being hit with a car that had rolled up behind him, swerved around, and then pulled back in the lane without adequate clearance.

Crazy, early drunk, Bucky decided. He dropped his speed again, letting some room get between him and the car.

Idiot left his blinker on, too, continually flashing.

Bucky rolled his eyes, and--

Wait, what? The tail light was blinking, rhythmically, and not in the simple click-click that most turn signals did. Bucky’d seen a few kits in his day, that made the tail-lights do an almost marquee scroll, which was really distracting late at night, but this wasn’t doing that, either.

Might be a short; it wasn’t any of Bucky’s business anyway. If the guy got pulled over for a burned out taillight, so much the better.

The light went dead for a moment, then started up again. The other rear light stayed steady, the whole time.

Flick, flick, flick. Flash, flash, flash.

What? Something nagged at him for a moment, and he lost the car as it wove around a tractor trailer. Bucky opened the throttle, speeding up.

SOS? Couldn’t possibly be. He only knew Morse Code because he watched entirely too many old war movies with his buddy Steve.

He pulled in behind the car again, watching, counting.

Yeah, that was… that had to be deliberate.

Bucky considered pulling over and calling 9-11 on his phone, when the car changed lanes twice. Bucky had to speed up to keep it in sight, and then it was headed off one of the exits, one of the complicated things that had two side paths, plus a jughandle. If he didn’t keep his eye on the car, he wouldn’t know where it went. Who even knew if the cops would take the story seriously?

Bucky followed them off the interstate.

“If this is someone’s idea of a prank,” Bucky muttered, “I am never gonna try bein’ a good samaritan again.”

Not that he had a plan. He was on a motorcycle, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he could clip them and make them stop without practically killing himself in the process.

The tail lights flickered a few more times, then stopped, as if the person -- if it was a person -- was getting tired.

At least there were traffic lights now. The car would have to slow down. Bucky grumbled, then decided to risk it. He took the next right hand turn, then an immediate left, slipping around traffic, taking advantage of his smaller vehicle and probably making all sorts of moving violations, but he managed to get ahead of them.

“Oh, this is so stupid,” he told himself, but as he came up on the car from the side, he slowed down, aimed the bike, and jumped off, letting the motorcycle smash into the passenger side door.

Inside the car, the passenger-side airbag exploded. The car swerved sharply and went into a spin, smashing into the guardrail. When it finally came to a stop, one tire was flat, and the bumper and whole side of the car had been liberally crumpled.

The driver’s side door opened, and a man floundered out of the car. “What the fuck!” he demanded. “What the--” He spotted Bucky, and his lip curled into a snarl. “What the absolute fuck, you asshole!”

Bucky’s sharp gaze raked the man, taking in dark clothes, aggression, and-- a gun holstered under one arm. Fuck, this was such a bad idea.

He staggered, letting his body pull him at a rolling gate. Playing drunk. “Dude, where’d you--” he acted like he couldn’t find his helmet’s strap, struggling with it. “Saw th’ car in front of you, and the car behind you, but not you…” He got the helmet off, still closing the distance. “What the hell’d you do to my bike?”

Two more steps, and Bucky threw the helmet at the guy, smashing him in the face with the fiberglass, hand automatically reaching, and-- grabbed the gun. “Don’t fucking move, asshole,” he yelled, putting the barrel right over the guy’s bloody nose.

The guy’s eyes went big and round in shock. “What-- Okay, man, okay, Jesus fuck, what the fuck am I going to do now?”

“Dude, tell your friend that he cannot possibly shoot me before I shoot you,” Bucky advised, stepping to one side and keeping the first guy between himself and the passenger. “He looks a little banged up to me, he’s likely to shoot you in the back before he gets one off on me.”

“What are you, some kind of cop?” the guy demanded, but he waved at his buddy, who was still trying to get untangled from the airbag enough to turn around and draw a bead on Bucky.

“Cops wish they were as cool as I am,” Bucky said. “Have him pop the trunk.” He hoped it wasn’t too damaged to work, and that whoever was inside it was okay. He really had not thought this through at all. Provided he lived through it, though, it was going to make a great story to tell Steve and Sam.

Slowly, with much cursing and complaining, the other guy managed to find the lever to pop the trunk.

“Hey pal, you okay in there?” Bucky tried to look over the driver’s shoulder to see what was actually in the damn trunk.

“I’ve been better,” said a voice. There was some more cursing and several pained grunts, and then a man unfolded from behind the driver, climbing laboriously out of the car’s trunk.

“If you can walk, there’s a whole ton of zip ties in my cycle’s saddlebag. And then I’ll call the cops?” He shifted the gun again, aiming at the guy’s knee. “Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to kill you, but my moral code’s a little wobbly on the subject of kneecaps.”

The victim looked around and then stumbled his way over to Bucky’s bike, rummaging in the bags and then coming back with the zipties. “Should I even ask why you have-- oh shit, you’re hot.” He froze, staring at Bucky.

Bucky spluttered. That was not at all what he’d expected. “I’m an electrician,” Bucky explained. “And I had a bunch of cable-wraps to do today. Come on, Dude in Distress, let’s zip these fuckers up before someone decides to try me. This is my favorite jacket, I do not want blood on it.”

The guy shook himself back into motion. “Right, right. Sorry.” He walked around behind the driver and started zip-tying the guys’ wrists. “It’s been a long week, and I’m dealing with an adrenaline dump; my filters are pretty much gone.”

Bucky stepped away, once they were both ziptied and on the ground, swearing and cursing, but probably not going anywhere. “Jesus,” he said, then lowered the gun and flicked the safety on. “Not how I intended to spend Friday night-- oh, crap, look at my bike!” Bucky’s voice spiraled up, the victim wasn’t the only guy who was dealing with a sudden flush of hormones. He wobbled back another few steps, shaking from head to toe.

“Whoa, hey, relax, it’s going to be okay,” the victim said. He reached out a tentative hand and gingerly patted Bucky’s shoulder, then again with more confidence when Bucky didn’t immediately throw him off. “I will absolutely make sure it gets fixed. Or replaced. Whatever’s easiest.” He looked around. “What did you do, drive right into the side of the car?”

“Basically, yeah,” Bucky said. He reached for his phone, tapping the Emergency Call button. “You need an ambulance-- what’s your name? I’m Bucky.”

“Tony,” the guy said. He prodded carefully at his face and arm and one leg. “I think it’s all superficial,” he said. “Just... cops.”

“Right, okay,” Bucky said, and when the phone chirped, with the “911, what is the nature of your emergency,” Bucky gave almost no details. “There’s been a… attempted kidnapping and car accident--” he peered at the street signs and gave an address.

“Sir, can you stay on the--” Bucky hung up. They’d both get grilled at the station, or the hospital, if medics decided they needed treatment anyway.

“Tell me you’re not some sort of swag drug dealer or something in a meet up gone bad,” Bucky said. “I’d really like to be the good guy, here.”

“Uh, yeah, I think we can safely say you’re the good guy,” Tony agreed. “I haven’t done drugs since college and I’ve never dealt. I don’t know what these two were after, but it wasn’t, you know, revenge for my nefarious and criminal ways. Hey, can I borrow your phone for a sec?”

Bucky handed it over, looking at the guy. He was dressed in a suit that had probably been nice before he’d been shoved in the trunk of a car, with tousled brown hair and a perfectly shaped beard. If Bucky had to say he had a type, Tony would have checked off a lot of boxes.

Tony dialed the phone. “Pep? What, no, I’m not-- It was fine, but I-- Pep! Code ninety-nine! ...Thank you. Yes. No, I’m fine. Mostly. Well, they jumped me in the garage and stuffed me in the trunk but the hottest guy in New Jersey managed to make them crash the car and-- No, I’m serious. The police are on the way; I need you to scramble the team. Yeah. Yes, really, I’m fine. Yeah. I’ll call after the police. I know, I know, you don’t have to-- Yeah, okay, I know.” He hung up without saying goodbye and handed the phone back to Bucky. “Thanks. My assistant,” he explained. “She likes to be kept up to date on my schedule.”

Bucky snorted. “So, this is, what, like someone’s extra meeting?” He saw light flashing in the distance, the wail of sirens getting closer. Very carefully, he took the gun out of his jacket pocket and put it on the pavement. “This is gonna be a very long evening,” he told Tony. Although given that he had a code for being kidnapped that his secretary knew, he was probably used to it. “Don’t suppose I can buy you a shitty cup of coffee after it’s done, or something?”

Tony looked at Bucky again, startled. “Wait, really? No, don’t answer that, you made the offer; no takebacks. Yes. You can buy me coffee. I’ll buy the doughnuts.”

“Square deal,” Bucky said, giving Tony a wide grin. “If I get out of this with less than a dozen moving violations, shitty coffee is gonna be all I can afford. By the way-- the Morse Code? That was clever. I was following them for like ten miles.”

Tony grinned back, offering Bucky a hand. “Thanks. And... Thanks.”

“I’d say anytime, but I’d rather you not make a habit of getting carjacked.”

“I dunno,” Tony said, giving Bucky an obvious once-over. “It might have been worth it.”

#winteriron bingo #tony stark x bucky barnes #carjacking #bingo fill

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summylise · 8 years ago

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The Greatest Sacrifice

A/N: Aaaaand here is chapter 4. I was working on this while editing and rewriting the last chapter so I apologize if some parts aren’t super clear or sound funky. Please let me know if this is the case or I have a continuity error!! ALSO: I know that nalu angst week is over but I'm going to keep posting the chapters even though I'm super behind lol

title: Nightmares, Scars, and the END

prompt: Sacrifice

chapter 1, chapter 2 , chapter 3, chapter 4

rating: T

pairings: nalu

words: 2935

summary: He had given in, and she was too late. There was nothing she could do besides beg and plead for him to come back to her. She knew it was in vain, that the words would never reach him. But there was still a sliver of her that hoped he was still in there. In the end, her kindness gave her scars that would never let her forget when her happiness had slipped through her fingers.

Lucy stared blankly at each grain of wood on the floor of the guildhall, eye glazed over. Fifty percent of her vision was non-existent, black, empty. The eye itself had swollen completely shut, but even if it hadn’t, the gauze wrapped tightly around it would have made it near impossible to see anyway. In fact, the white, blood-stained fabric had been tied around her neck and a part of her shoulder. Her leg had also been wrapped in the bandage, and her left arm was now resting in a makeshift sling, still too fragile after Wendy’s emergency care to move around freely.

She only remembered bits and pieces of the ordeal: her bruised guild members pulling her from the rubble, being rushed to the guild hall, waking up a few hours late to find her wounds covered and healing. Wendy had been completely drained of magic power; she had been sleeping in the guild’s recovery room for almost three days now because of it. Her lack of magic had meant that she couldn’t fully heal the gashes on Lucy’s face and could barely heal her broken arm.

When it was all said and done, Lucy was the worst off compared to the rest of the guild. Most made it out with a few bruises and burns, but there were some whose wounds had required immediate care. Laxus had been one of the unlucky few with broken bones, one arm almost shattered from stopping a piece of concrete from crushing a little girl and his kneecap fractured from landing too hard on the ground. Wendy, who had already lost a good portion of her magic power from the hangover curing that morning, was sent to those patients first. The others were left to have their wounds tended to by Porlyusica, who grumbled as she wrapped gauze around cuts and rubbed potions around bruises.

The old woman had grimaced when she finally made her way to Lucy. She had lifted the dirty, blood-stained wraps on Lucy’s face and audibly hissed. She had done all she could, used all potions and mixes that could help and had concluded that the wounds would never properly heal, even if Wendy had a go at them. That they would leave permanent scars. She had mentioned something about demon’s claws, but Lucy had stopped listening; the ringing in her ears was too loud. Not only would she always remember that terrible feeling, not only of helplessness but also of the excruciating pain, but she would also forever wear the scars as a constant reminder.

The guild buzzed around her, papers and maps collected from the last few days strewn about in every direction. Every wizard, ignoring their wounds, poured over notes and letters as they followed the demon-Natsu-across Fiore, tracking his every movement. Macao and Wakaba were going at it, both claiming that each other’s sources were invalid, only meant to throw off the trail. Levy adorned her reading glasses and had every book imaginable on demons, attacks, possession, anything she could get her hands on that could help her further understand the situation.

There were only four individuals that were crumpled off to the side, staring at nothing in particular, too lost in thought to pay anyone else any mind: Gray, Erza, Happy, and herself. Happy, however, had long since curled up on Lucy’s lap and cried himself to sleep. Lucy would have been right there with him had she not been so in shock, so utterly numb. She wished that she was sad, or angry or scared or worried or anything. Anything that wasn’t nothing at all.

It was as though she was having a sort of out of body experience. She could still see everything her eyes were seeing, but it was as though a wall had come between her and her body. It felt as though she was a puppet, and something else was controlling her, but her consciousness was trapped inside, banging on an invisible wall trying to regain control.

She didn’t even feel the sting and throb of her wounds anymore. It was like her entire body sank in a tub of ice cold water.

Erza and Gray were a different story. Erza sat at a nearby table; her head bowed facing the floor, her arms crossed over her knees. Bruises had emerged along her jaw and collarbone from where Natsu had likely landed a few good hits. A long, thick layer of gauze was bound around her head and chest.She hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything while they had been sitting there. And that had been almost five hours now. Gray had yet to take off one scrap of clothing save for his necklace. He twirled it between his fingers, stroking the sword’s rough edges. His lips were set in a hard, thin line, his eyes never leaving his pendant. He too sported a handful of bruises though he had been given a lot more than a few scrapes and broken ribs. His arm hung in a sling similar to Lucy’s though his arm and hand had yet to heal. He propped his splinted leg out in front of him from his unmoving position on the floor, his crutches lying haphazardly at his side. Any movement, whether it be a twitch, a readjustment, or a bump, made Gray hiss and grimace.

Every so often, someone would race past them and completely forget that the group was there only to remember when one of their legs would catch on Gray’s foot or a loose paper would land beside Erza’s after spilling from their hands. None of them would move. No one would react. The person would mutter a hasty apology, if they said anything at all, and raced to where they were heading.

“This says Natsu’s made his way to Hargeon already. Luckily they evacuated in time. Would’ve been a disaster if they hadn’t,” said one member. Macao.

“Stop saying that. That thing isn’t Natsu anymore,” countered another. Wakaba?

Lucy blinked. That wasn’t true. She refused to believe it. She finally lifted her head to stare at the pair. Macao nodded in response to Wakaba’s comment, his jaw clenching, and Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Right.”

Cana stood from her seat next to Macao, the large barrel that usually accompanied her surprisingly absent and nowhere to be seen. Her face too had taken on a striking hardness; her eyes narrowed, shoulders tensed. She had never seen her friend so ferocious, her features reminding her more of Erza than her usually laid back, alcohol drinking self.

“We can’t just sit here doing nothing. We have to do something about this. We have to stop it,” Cana stated, eyes flashing.

The guild quieted, eyes darting to Cana as she moved to stand in front of the large map of Fiore in the center of the room. Erza lifted her head to watch Cana move, the gears in her head turning. Gray froze stroking his pendant. Makarov sat atop a nearby table, staring down at the map, deep in thought. Without looking at the girl, he opened his mouth.

“What did you have in mind?” he retorted with a hollowness in his voice.

Wizards began to filter in behind Cana as she stood staring, a finger on her chin, as she glanced at the map and the papers in her hands.

The map itself was already covered with various reports of sightings and pictures of burning chaos, thumbtacks pinpointing the location of each attack. A red string connected the tacks by order of occurrence. Cana got down on her knees and pressed a finger to the edge of the red line, tracing along its length. She swore under her breath.

“He’s heading straight for the capital.”

The room gasped. Lucy’s eyes widened, feeling herself start to fall back into her body.

“But why would he do that?”

“It. That thing isn’t Natsu.”

“But why the capital? What’s over there that he-it-wants?”

“To destroy. To attack as many people as possible,” Cana interrupted. “That’s all those demons want.”

Lucy felt her blood come back to life, bubbling and churning in her stomach. The mention of the beast broke her from her disassociation.

“Once, it gets to Crocus, there’s no telling how bad it’ll get. It might even be worse than the situation with the Eclipse gate.”

Cana turned back to the map, tracing over several smaller dots between the edge of the string and the capital. The guild members around her murmured nervously, frightened concerns passing between them. Levy remained in the corner, watching the confrontation intently but staying back. She passed silent words with Gajeel, both wearing grave expressions as they assessed the situation. Lucy’s heart picked up as she watched the faces around Cana darken and narrowed in on the town she was tapping.

“There. That one. Amaryllis. It’s small enough that there won’t be a lot of people but big enough that it’ll want to attack that one next,” Cana stated. “It’ll likely have enough buildings in the center of town where we can ambush it.”

The guild erupted into a chorus of shouts and hoots of agreement. Makarov continued to stare down at the map, still deep in thought. He didn’t react to a word Cana said; he didn’t even acknowledge her. Cana picked a card from her deck and threw it to the small point on the map, the corner piercing its black center. Lucy’s heart dropped. Did that mean they…

“Wh-what are you going to do once you find him?” Lucy said, her voice cracking after not being used for a few days.

The crowd quieted, turning to face her. Cana locked eyes with Lucy, staring her down. Challenging her, but also holding a hint of softness in her expression.

“What’d you say?” Cana asked, without any trace of malice she had a few moments before.

Lucy carefully lifted Happy from her lap and placed him on the floor next to her, unsure of what she would do in the next few minutes. She cleared her throat then tried again. “What’re you going to do when you find him? What then?” She kept her voice steady, trying to suppress the fear and anger that started coursing through her veins. She knew exactly what they wanted to do to him; she just wanted to hear them say it.

Cana blinked. She paused a moment, just staring back at Lucy. Then she sighed, her fingers massaging the bridge of her nose.

“Look, Lucy…”

“No, you can’t do that!” Lucy cried, leaping to her feet. She started towards the group. “Natsu’s still in there! You can’t just k-kill him.”

Erza flew from her chair, kicking it back behind her. Gray glanced up from his position on the floor, his fingers freezing on his pendant. The guild hall tensed. No one said a word. Everyone froze like statues in a wax museum. Cana took a calming breath and closed her eyes. Jet narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to argue her, but Cana shot out an arm, cutting him off.

“Lucy, you have to understand. That thing isn’t Natsu,” Cana stated, clearly and calmly, a hint of impatience in her tone.

Lucy clenched her free fist, her teeth grinding against each other.

“No, you need to understand. Do you know how many times Natsu has saved you? Has saved all of us?” she questioned, her voice rising. “But the second he needs us to save him, you all resort to the just killing him? How could you people do that?”

She shifted her gaze to the crowd around the brunette. Some mages turned to one another, doubt rising in their expressions. Jet’s eyes softened, his shoulders slacken. Cana just kept staring her down, her muscles slowly flexing. Her nostrils flared and her lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

“Did you try and kill Laxus when he made us attack each other? Or Freed? Evergreen or Bickslow? No. You just gave them a slap on the wrist and left it at that.”

“Lucy…” Cana warned, her voice sharpening.

“He’s just having a hard time with this enemy. And he needs us to help him. If we could just talk to him, to try and reason with him then maybe…”

“We’ve already tried, Lucy,” Mira said from the bar. “And he wasn’t listening, and you were almost killed-”

“I saw him in there! He stopped the demon from killing me!” Lucy cried, stepping on the edge of the map. “Natsu would never hurt his friends..”

“Lucy!” Cana screamed. Lucy’s blood ran cold. Cana glared down at her, her clenched fists shaking at her sides. Her chest heaved, her face reddened.

“Look in the mirror! You almost had your damn face ripped off! And it was so close to killing you. If it had choked you a moment longer, you would have died in the middle of town.”

The guild hall was silent, only being cut by Cana’s heavy breathing. Lucy’s eyes widened. She couldn’t think of how to respond, how to retort. She gulped, massaging the bruises blossoming on her throat. Each guild member slowly turned to face Cana whose body had begun to tremble. Her fists slackened. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face to the floor.

“If I had been a second late,” she said, her voice cracking. “That thing would have killed you. And I would have lost another friend that day.”

A stray tear dropped onto the map, and Cana had to grit her teeth to keep from breaking down right there in the middle of the guild hall.

“That’s why we have to stop him. I can’t lose another friend, and I can’t let anyone else go through something like that.”

Lucy bit her lip, hesitant. She wanted to argue more; she knew that she wasn’t wrong, that she wasn’t crazy. That she had seen Natsu in there. But she couldn’t just stand to see Cana so torn apart by it. Her voice softened.

“What if he’s not lost? What if-”

A cold hand closed over her shoulder. Lucy turned to see Gray, still staring at the floorboards, his eyes glazed over. He blinked and turned his gaze to her. She saw how hard this was for him, the way his jaw clenched, the intense pressure of his grip on her shoulder, the way his sharp eyes stared at nothing in particular.

“Lucy, you saw the way he acted. You saw how he attacked us, how he attacked you,” he murmured. “You said it yourself: Natsu would never hurt his friends.”

Lucy’s heart twisted, her words stopping in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes. She bit her lip to keep it in.

“And I know for a fact that he’d never hurt an innocent. What do you think his reaction would be if he found out what he had done?” Erza added, stepping up behind her and placing her uninjured hand on Lucy’s other shoulder.

Lucy glanced at the wizard and actually looked at her. Her brown eyes strained, red from lack of sleep and accentuated by dark, purple bruises. The red of her hair looked flat, lacking its usual vibrancy and life. Her voice was hoarse. Her throat bobbed. Lucy had never seen the mage this troubled, this distressed. That’s what struck one last chord.

“I’ve known Natsu for years,” she continued, turning to Lucy, “and I know that he would rather die than be the cause of the death of an innocent, let alone his fellow guild member. Let alone you.”

Lucy’s stomach knotted, twisting over and over again like taffy being pulled. Her heart clenched tightly. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. Her breath hitched. There were too many people. Too many watching. The tears were coming, and she wouldn’t be able to stop them.

“M-Master,” she choked, her last strand of hope riding on whatever he might say. She clenched her fists, forcing back the unwanted tears. “Master, please don’t let them go through with this.”

The crowd slowly turned to face the small, unmoving man who continued to glare at the map. His jaw clicked. A grumble resonated from deep within him as he contemplated his options. He slowly closed his eyes and clenched the fingers around his staff. The guild seemed to hold its breath. Lucy froze, realizing that anticipation itself was more excruciating than the answer she could already hear him giving her.

He carefully released a breath and opened his eyes.

“For the sake of all Fiore and the safety of all my children, we must move on with Cana’s plan, no matter the cost.”

Her chest heaved, air refusing to stay in her lungs longer than a few seconds. Her blood ran cold.

Next thing she knew, she was pushing the large, wooden doors closed and sliding down its base. She pressed a hand to her mouth and clamped her eyes shut. Silent tears streamed down her face, soaking into the white gauze blanketing the right side of her body. She curled herself into a ball against the door, tensing her muscles as tight as possible, terrified that the instant she let go, she would fall apart.

They were right. They were all right. She knew they were right, but that didn’t mean that it was ok. It was what he would have wanted. It was what was good for her guild. Good for the people of Fiore.

She just wished that she didn’t have to sacrifice her own happiness to save that of everyone else.

#nalu #angst #nalu angst week #nalu-angst-week #summer writes

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