#and i needed to unscrew a bit but the screw was in there so tight it was impossible to turn

[nexus-nebulae]

fuck fuck fuck

[th3secr3th1story]

how gojo tries to get your attention after a fight

gojo messed up majorly. last night, he came home tired and stressed after a mission with a special grade curse. yes, it was successful (obviously. it's gojo.), but it still drained him.

he was so out of it and wasn't feeling like himself, but you, as a wonderful partner, tried to take care of him. gojo got frustrated, and sure, he felt guilty for it, but he was done.

and he took it all out on you. you would've gladly left him alone if he'd just asked you, but gojo was never one for good communication.

you eventually got the hint and realized it was best for him to be alone, but the words from last night still stung and the hurtful glares unforgotten. you decided you would just ignore him until he apologized. until he realized that you can't put up with this anymore.

so, the problem was now with gojo. he woke up that morning to an empty bed, curious, because you usually beg him to stay in longer.

and then, of course, it hit him. he can't remember what he was so upset about. yes, he was tired, but you were just there to help him after a long day. and he ruined it all.

sliding out of bed, he sidles up to you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.

"last night was crazy, huh?"

"..."

"i absolutely destroyed that curse though, baby. nothing left."

"..."

okay...so maybe this was worse than he expected. but it would be okay because he would figure out a way to fix it all. he's gojo satoru; if he can kill special grade curses he can definitely get your forgiveness!

plan A--commence!

naturally, instead of apologizing like a normal person, gojo sneaks around the house tightening every jar he can find. your leave in conditioner, the pickles, jam...anything with a screw-on lid that he laid his eyes on.

all that was left was to wait for you to reach for one of the jars, realize it was screwed on too tight, and ask him for help.

an hour later, seated in the living room, he watches you enter the kitchen, looking for your favorite quick snack--pickles!!

he gets ready to see your angry but desperate face. should you forgive gojo and enjoy your snack, or save your pride but remain hungry? you'd debate with yourself for a bit, but eventually you'd begrudgingly walk over to him. "just open it," you'd say. he'd unscrew the jar, you'd smile at each other. he'd pull you into his ar-

oh. you opened it by yourself. the sound of a jar popping open snapped him out of his imagination, watching you pull out a few pickles and happily bite into them.

there may have been one small flaw with gojo's masterplan--he forgot that you're stronger than him.

no sweat! it's all good! he was already thinking up something new. it was time for plan B!

galloping over to your air conditioning, he cranks it all the way up (as much as your paychecks would allow, at least). he had seen this in one of those stupid romance movies he'd begged you to watch with him a couple months ago. it was only a matter of time before you ran over to him, shivering, begging for his warmth. he was sure of it.

20 or so minutes later, still nothing from you...odd! he walks around the house, curious to see what you're doing at a temperature like this. he finds you in one of his sweaters, curled up in your bed. his stomach sinks even more. he just wants to climb in with you, pull you into him, and smother you in his kisses.

"go away, satoru," you mumble. he sighs, sulking away back to the living room. at least you're talking to him?

he doesn't know how much time has passed but later when he gets off the couch his head hurts and he just wants to be near you. he'll do anything at this point. this is how he reaches plan C: apologize. what a novel idea!

he walks back into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"hey."

"..." great.

"y/n, i know i messed up. i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and i should've just asked for space. i know you were just trying to help. i'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me, i miss you and i can't stand you ignoring me."

for the first time in what has got to be a thousand hours to gojo, you finally turn your head and look him in the eyes. you swear you can see sparkles in them. oh, the things he does to you.

"i just want you to tell me what you need, 'toru. i'm not a mind reader, i can't just know what you want from me. i need you to know that i would do anything for you and i hate when you put up these walls."

"i know, baby. i'm so sorry."

you sigh, smiling at him a little. of course you forgive him. you always would, no matter what.

"i forgive you. wanna get in here with me?" you ask, lifting up the covers a little. why was it chilly?

"absolutely."

plan C: success!

who knew that apologizing could actually fix things? certainly not gojo!

[ladyelissarose]

‘Compromised’

Characters; Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley + Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish

Warnings; It’s mostly pretty funny and cheesy... buuuut a little suggestive in the end ;) if y’all want a more specified warnings it’s basically two large guys in an awkward position in a sticky situation, letting their intrusive thoughts get to them.

Summary; Who thought getting into a mess of a mission would bring out inner thoughts of 2 of the 141’s most toughest soldiers?

Author’s note; This incredible art and fic idea comes from the amazing @lurrlonde !! Thank you again for being so cool! Go check out this guys art y’all!! It’s the best!!

“YOU’RE A COMPLETE IDIOT SOAP!”

“SAYS YE WHO IS A DAFT MINDED BASTARD!”

BANG BANG BANG!!!

Soap ran closely behind Ghost as he shot back at the incoming enemies, who had found their secret hiding spot after Soap let out a ‘louder than expected’ chuckle at a stupid dad-joke Ghost said. It wasn’t really funny anyways. It was a simple-

‘Why is dark spelled with ‘K’ and not a ‘C’? = because you can’t ‘C’ in the dark.’

That was literally it! But Soap was attention deprived and mentally exhausted, that the sudden boost of humor took him over and gave him the giggles. Now they were running for their lives as their position had been found and the Cartels were chasing their asses down. Ghost looked around for any place to hide in for now until Price brought backup, even if it was in a chemical closet or something similar enough. Soap grew a little worried as he could hear how close they were getting on their tails, he knew how outnumbered they were and unfortunately so it was partially his fault.

“Ghost they getting on us-“

“I know- HERE! Come!”

With a harsh jerk Ghost pulled him into a large back room and pointed at the ceiling with a gruff whisper,

“We need to get up there, climb on my shoulders!”

Without asking questions Soap read Ghost’s mind and immediately stepped onto his broad shoulders once he had crouched down enough. Ghost held onto Soap’s legs tightly and slowly lifted himself to a complete stand, ushering him with words to hurry up.

“Hurry Soap, we only have so long.”

“I know Lt. But this vent is all screwed up tight!”

Soap used his knife to unscrew it, sweat dripping down from his hair and covering his entire being from the stress and slight fear he was feeling. Ghost held on tightly and didn’t budge at all, his strength not faltering for now, he was breathing a little harder, but that was it. Near by they could hear loud slamming of doors being opened, meaning they were checking every room. Ghost bit onto his mask and whispered to Soap with concern in his tone,

“Johnny-“

“Got it!! Ok ok I’m pulling up!”

Soap was pretty tough himself and successfully he was able to climb in immediately, his hand now dropping to Ghost as he spoke confidently,

“C‘mon! I got ya mate- hurry!”

Ghost worried for a moment that Soap might not be able to pull him up, as he was much taller and buffier, but he’d have to trust him as he heard louder shouts.

“There’s 4 more rooms left! Check them out now!”

Eyes wide with desperation Soap choked,

“N-Now Ghost!”

With a deep grunt Ghost jumped and caught Soap’s hand, hearing him gasp at the weight he now held and tried to pull up. Maybe on any other day Soap might have had a little struggle, but the fear was so big, it gave enough adrenaline to pull him all the way up. Ghost was pretty surprised but grateful.

Soap dragged him inside and immediately put back the vent cover, making sure it was in perfect place before settling himself in. Only bad thing was, the place was a little compact for two big guys. Soap was left sitting under Ghost who was standing in a squatting position over him. Soap felt just fine but he snapped into Ghost’s reality when he heard him mumble,

“I’ve got to fuckin’-“

thonk!!!

“Shit!! Don’t move Simon!”

Of course air vents were made weak and super cheap to only sustain air, and not necessarily take two tower-built soldiers. With the little movement Ghost had attempted, the whole thing shook and threatened to bent under his foot. Silence filled the area as they awaited their biggest fear of going down and being caught.

“...”

“...”

BANG!!

Both men had their hearts beating wildly in their throats as they heard the Cartel under them, searching the entire area (well they thought they did;) Through the mask Ghost’s nervous expression couldn’t be read, but he knew he must’ve looked exactly like Soap who had his eyes blown wide and his face completely pale. It only took a few more minutes until they listened to great news,

“This room is clear! Two guards stay at this door. The rest go to the next then check the perimeter!!”

The sound of loud stomps of running men grew less and less until it couldn’t be heard, only sound remaining were the sighs the soldiers let out at being safe and unseen for now. Johnny shifted a bit and let out a breath of relief, as he looked up to Ghost and asked,

“Ye alright LT?”

Ghost’s eyes locked on his as he curtly replied,

“Yes Sergeant.”

Soap knew that voice, and tone. He thought that perhaps Ghost was still very upset at the whole situation, so he chose to apologize,

“M’sorry LT. ‘bout all this.. I’ll make it up to ya.”

Brown eyes met his blue ones as a low voice responded more calmly but with that same intensity in it,

“It’s not your fault Johnny, we both messed up.”

Soap let a brow perk up as he questioned,

“Are ye upset though?”

Through his eyes Soap could see that Ghost was uncomfortable or that something big was wrong, hence making him keep on asking. Ghost rolled his eyes and muttered,

“Why do you keep asking Soap-“

“I can see it in your eyes Simon, you keep squintin’ and shit, huffing loudly and all. Did ya get shot?”

Ghost muttered a simple ‘no’ and looked away from Soap, bitting his tongue at the stinging pain he felt in his thighs, squatting the entire time was beginning to take a toll on him and leave him burning. But he’d rather die than admit it, he was a tough guy. So slightly he tried to move a bit, but with the soreness and burn of it all he let out a deep groan and stopped moving.

“Agh.. fuckin hell-“

“What is it LT?”

Ghost tired to move his legs a bit but they burned so much like if someone was laying a steaming pan on his thighs. Soap looked up at him with his baby blues and asked again with concern,

“Lt? Ya good?”

Simon was dreading to confess the truth behind why he was groaning an shifting uncomfortably, but Johnny was genuinely being very nice, and would probably be understanding too. Concerning the fact that it was his fault they were there in the first place. Simon’s rolled his eyes and finally huffed out,

“My legs are burnin’ Johnny.. in this position. And I can’t sit cause there’s no room... might make a lot of noise too-“

Heat rose up to Simon’s cheeks as he was cut off of words, at the feeling of two hands press up against his bottom, and lift him up slightly. He couldn’t be oblivious or stupid and ask himself,

‘Who the heck has their hands on my ass?’

Because only he and ‘Johnny’ were in the damn air vent. But he nonetheless asked this, as he didn’t know what else to say at the unexpected act,

“Johnny.. what the fock-“

Johnny unapologetically gave a light squeeze as to emphasize what he was doing while responding defensively,

“Lt you said you wanted to sit but couldn’t.. now I’m helpin’ ya. See?”

Another light squeeze*

Breath hitching and sweating out nervousness, Simon could only sigh out,

“A’ight Johnny, just no squeezing.”

“Why?”

Wha- why? Johnny it’s my ass-“

“But I’m helping ya Lt-“

“And that’s it-“

“I get to do whatever I want with this ass as I’m holding it up on my own will Simon-“

“It’s still my ass and I said don’t-“

Squeeze*

“Soap. No.”

“But-“

“I get you’ve been eyeballin’ my arse sense the first day but c’mon.”

Johhny’s bit back a gasp,

“You knew!”

Huffing lightly Ghost stated,

“I’m quiet but not stupid Jonnny.”

A small embarrassed smile took place on Johnny at his words, adding with hesitation,

“oh... is it ok?”

“I’s more than fine Johnny, just not now-“

“But it’s the perfect time!”

“For whot exactly Sergeant?”

Simon knew exactly to the ‘T’ what Johnny was referring to, but he wanted him to say it. Johnny’s cheeks grew a little pink, and his eyes were sparkling like a puppy’s, ever so desperate but shy all at once to say his inner desires. Simon laughed internally at this Scot’s sudden shyness, as he was always so loud and out-spoken. Though he knew he wouldn’t mind a little fun, he couldn’t deny that the Scottish blue-eyed soldier was on his mind half- no more than all the time, Johnny practically lived in his head.

Ghost inched his hand towards Soap’s face and caressed it, feeling peace at his actions when Soap leaned into his touch.

“I know Johnny... but there’s other times for it- like safer.”

With a simple nod Soap agreed. But he couldn’t resist the feeling of Ghost’s ass in his hold, giving him the sudden urge of tease to bring his hands closer to the crotch, all while watching Ghost closely for his reaction- which came fast. And unexpectedly his quickest reflex was to grasp Soap’s Mohawk tightly, earning him a whimper.

‘Jesus Soap you’ll be the death of me.’

“J-Johnny! Please, I will grow hard-“

Smirking wickedly Soap teased,

“What if that’s what I want? Hm? Then I’ll have a reason to help you out...”

Being impressed wasn’t the word to describe how Ghost felt, more like flustered and very hot now.

“Smart bastard.”

“Only the best Lt-“

And with that he rubbed Ghost’s entire crotch area with his palm, receiving a jerk of Ghost’s hips and a low moan,

“Ahh Johnny.. slow down.”

“Yeahhh give me a minute. Let’s move a bit.”

Soap extended his knees towards Ghost and let them hold him up now, like a chair. Ghost sighed in relief at being seated now, and thought that was the end of it until he heard a zipper and hands on him.

ziiiip!

“Fuck Johnny!”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Knowing how desperate he was for release- more than anything Soap’s hands on him, he couldn’t say no.

“No.. go on!”

Face lighting up like Christmas Soap cheered to himself,

“Fuuuuck yeahhh-“

“GHOST! SOAP!! You boys alright!!”

Soap facepalmed and Ghost groaned upset as they recognized Price’s voice call out to them from under the vent. With a frown Soap zipped up Ghost’s pants as Ghost responded,

“Yeah, were good.. we’ll be coming down now.”

“Alright boys! Gaz will be here with a ladder... we already took out the guys and secured the leader... we can go now.”

Soap responded,

“Sounds good Captain, on our way.”

Slowly Ghost started to move, but Johnny pulled him back and whispered,

“We’ll continue right?”

A smile was known to be on Ghost’s face as his eyes crinkled. He lightly pinched Soap’s cheek and sassed,

“You said you’d make it up to me. I expect you do, in many ways.”

Soap groaned and smacked Ghost’s ass as he began to move off to get out,

“You bet I will Simon.”

Ghost looked back at him with sharp eyes, making Soap lift his hands in surrender.

“Easy Sergeant... easy...”

[sturncrazy]

LIFE OF THE PARTY PART ONE:

( prt 2 )

- Chris Sturniolo x y/n (fem)

- warnings: mentioning of drinking, language, kissing, some making out

- authors note: this chpt is pretty pg nothing beyond a little heavy kissing….things don’t heat up until the next part. you gotta have some build up yk…

summary: you attended an end of year party for your school with your friends but run into chris who you don’t get along with. someone has the bright idea of starting a game of spin the bottle and your whole night changes…

word count: 2,224 w

—————————————————————————

It was one of the last friday nights of school before your summer vacation started and you were trying to make the most of it by dragging yourself out to a party with you friends. It was a small party, all things considered, with only about 25 other people there, but it was still enough bodies to make the basement setting a bit stuffy for your liking. The room buzzed with voices and shitty rap music from some of the boys being on aux. The dim orangey old lighting made the room feel extra hazy. You sat on a couch surveying the group and fussy with your skirt that was a little too short to sit safely. The group was full of familiar faces from your classes, some more than others. You noticed your friend Madi, who’d wanted you to come here in the first place, already stumbling and slurring a bit in the corner by some guys. Staring down at your lukewarm half empty white claw, you decided to go get something stronger…it would be an awfully long night if you ended up being the sober one. As you headed towards the table with the drinks you bumped into Matt.

“Hey y/n! You okay?”

he asked giving you a half hug. you and Matt had been friends for a couple years now after you’d gotten close to his brother nick. Matt was a sweetheart and always had a reassuring presence.

“Yeah! Hey Matt! Yeah no i’m good just need somethin else to drink”

“Gotcha. Well Chris is lurking over by the drinks so tell him i said to stop being a dick to everyone when you see him” He said letting out a small snort and then running off to catch up with his friend Nate.

Perfect…you’d have to interact with Chris. You couldn’t understand why, but you and Chris never clicked. It was strange since you were so close with both his brothers and Madi, who was basically his sister, was your best friend. But the two of you never got along. He was snarky and condescending. You didn’t like his whole superiority complex. And you knew it was a mutual issue. He always made underbreath remarks about you being a “tight ass.” Even though that wasn’t the case at all, you were just shy. Whatever, doesn’t matter what he thinks you thought to yourself as you built back up the will power to continue your mission to get another drink.

You tried to avoid looking at Chris as you scanned the half emptied bottles of various liquors, all probably snagged from oblivious parents collections, but you could feel his eyes drilling into your skull.

“Another drink already y/n?” Chris snarled at you.

“What? you expecting me to hand you a drink voucher or something?” you spat back still avoiding actually looking at him.

“No need to get all huffy. just thought you’d be shitting yourself after a sip of a claw is all” he snickered at his own comment.

“You know I can drink, Chris. You’ve seen me drink before” You said snagging a solo cup and pouring some juice in it.

“Oh no….do we need to have an intervention is it time for the AA meeting?” he teased, mocking you, as you started to unscrew a bottle of vodka. this made you snap.

“screw you you know what i meant. Don’t give me shit. at least i’m actually fun at parties” you said, finally looking up at him. He stood lazily leaning against the wall. he wore loose fit black jeans that sat on his body casually with air forces peaking out of the bottom paired with a simple white t shirt. a stupidly simple outfit that had no business looking that good. You felt a lump in your throat as you scanned his face. Wide blue eyes, slightly hazy from whatever was in his own red cup he’d been toying with, gazed at you with a sarcastic glint through a curtain of mussed brown hair. You hated the fact that for some reason actually looking a Chris always made your stomach do a little cartwheel.

“Like you weren’t just off in the corner just like me a few minutes ago” he retorted

“What’re you watching me?”

“Just observing my surroundings” he lifted his glass to you in a phony cheers before taking a sip, annoyingly unbothered by your attempted jab at him.

“Well it’s not my fault that the party’s been a little dull” you sulked and let a few too many glugs of vodka slam into your cup

“Don’t blame the party. we both know even if this was a rager you’d be clinging to a wall. You’re not capable of letting loose, but hey not everyone in this world is meant to have fun. it’s why we have like math and shit”

You knew he was doing whatever he could to just get under your skin and it was working. You hated how much you wanted to prove him wrong, but you knew another word out of you in protest would only make him cockier. You slammed your revolting concoction to try to suffocate the things you wanted to spit out at him. Shivering slightly, you made another cup full, aware of the fact that his eyes were still on you. Luckily, in that moment a plastered Madi came bounding over to you with Nick not far behind.

“Y/N cmon we’re gonna start a around of spin the bottle so I can try to kiss the boy from my biology class i was telling you about”

“But shhhhh donttell anyone cause it’s a secret” Nick added drunkly giggling and clinging to madi

“I dunno guys isn’t that game kinda childish” you said mostly fearing the idea of getting stuck kissing some gross slobbery drunk guy

“oh cmonnnnn y/n don’t be boring it’ll be funnnn it’s always fun to stir the pot at parties” Nick continued whining

“Yeah don’t be boring y/n” Chris chimed in, clearly listening in on this whole conversation.

“Chris come on you come too!” Madi said attempting to drag him in

“If i have to watch him kiss anyone i will puke on the spot” Nick said grimacing at the thought

“Yeah i’ll pass” Chris said pulling back

“Ugh whatever, you coming y/n?” Madi asked pleading with you. You hesitated. Chris let out a small chuckle

“What?” you asked him.

“Nothin. Just the day I see you play a game like that i’ll shit twice and die.”

“hmmm. your funeral. yeah madi, let’s go” you said taking your friends hand and shooting him a look. for a second you thought you saw a wave of actual surprise flash across his face.

“REALLY?! YAY!!!” Madi cheered doing a little dance and pulling you to follow nick who’d already darted off to collect other people to play. Chris stood there looking unsure of what to do, but unfortunately Madi saw this too. She grabbed him by the wrist with her other hand yanking him along too

“Cmon chris if you’re such a lady’s man u can’t back out of a little game”

The three of you joined a cluster forming on the floor of people surrounding an empty pink whitney bottle. Chris had managed to break off from Madis grasp, but hadn’t decided to leave the circle. Instead he headed towards a few of his lacrosse friends. You carefully sat on the floor beside Madi as Nick started the game.

The beginning part was boring— mostly suffering through watching other intoxicated teens smush spitty mouths together. you found yourself continually reaching for your little red cup to make the experience more tolerable. It had started to have its effects on you and you were sitting in a blissful bubble of your own fuzzy buzzed state when you became aware of madi poking at you.

“Cmon y/n go! it’s your turn to spin” she slurred as your face flushed hot with embarrassment from delaying the game. you heard chris and one of his friends snicker and you shot him daggers from across the room as you reached for the bottle. You gave it a solid spin and watched it rotating, making you dizzy. slowly it began to end its journey and pick your fate. it stopped. you heard an “oh shit” muttered from close by your side as your gaze followed the direction of the bottle cap…to a pair of white air forces sticking out of black denim. No fucking way. you thought to yourself as you were met by the same wide blue eyes from earlier looking at you. Annoyingly unfazed yet again. Chris.

“Puckerup Chrissy” one of his friends laughed shoving at him

Your body froze as he actually began to move forward towards you. He was close enough you could smell the exhilarating sent of his cologne. Your breath hitched as you realized maybe there was a part of you excited for this kiss.

“let’s just get this over with, yeah?” Chris said before leaning in and giving you a heartless peck on the lips. Your heart sank and you felt a flick of shame and rage heat the back of your neck.

This was only made worse when a few turns further in the game chris landed on a different girl and you watched in horror as they sloppily kissed far longer than a first land in the game was supposed to call for. As he pulled away from her you could’ve sworn you caught him look at you for a reaction. A desire to get back at him bubbled inside of you. When your next turn came you spun the bottle as hard as you could, trying to ignore the jittering mix of nerves and anger in your body. slowing slowing slowing…..stopped. You looked. on the other end of the bottle was Nate. Chris’s best friend. Bingo. The spin the bottle gods had been on your side.

Nate gave you a small smile as you two met in the middle of the circle. You leaned in for a heated kiss which was met by nate eagerly pushing into the early stages of a make out. A series of “oooooo”s let out across the room at your display. You pulled away and were pleasantly surprised to see a disgusted glance from chris. he slammed the rest of his drink and attempted to look distracted.

the rest of the game was taking far too long for your liking as people started having repeats which lead to make out sessions. but you knew the worst would be when the 7 minutes of heaven rounds started for the poor unfortunate suckers who got stuck with the same person 3 times. Your third turn came and you gave the bottle a pathetically weak spin…probably a result of your beverage. it gave a half-assed scooch.

“NO WAY” you heard madi chuckle and to your horror you saw it was Chris…again. But this time there’d be no escaping it with a peck. You’d be counted down for 10 seconds to make out. 10 whole seconds. you’d rather die.

“Cmon Chris don’t mail it in this time pussy” you heard his friend taunt.

If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he looked almost nervous as he approached you again. This gave you a strange sense of confidence and you wanted to embarrass him some more. You leaned in and gave him a passionate kiss. Charged by the rage and disgust for him and desire to prove him wrong…or so you told yourself…you felt him freeze on the other side of your lips as the group chanted “SIX FIVE FOUR” but in those last four seconds something shifted. Suddenly his lips relaxed and molded against yours. You felt a him take a small inhale before diving back in with force against your mouth. for a moment you forgot this was ever a game. The two of you pulled apart from one another and you scurried back and started at your shoes in a desperate attempt to avoid any eye contact with chris after that. What was that. Something had felt like it was on fire during that kiss. It felt hungry and desperate. Not like a drunk make out or any stupid game. Mulling over what had happened you lost track of the game until you heard someone say “ok chris your go”

your head shot up. chris’s eyes were on you as he reached for the bottle. you watched as he gave it an oddly light spin. it landed on you.

the room was met with a deafening amount of “whoops” and cheers at the first 3rd land.

the first 7 minutes in heaven land. you thought you would throw up on the spot as your entire body froze.

“Into the closet you two” one of the girls said as she rushed over to open up a door to a dusty looking pocket of a room across the basement. you watched chris stand up and casually saunter over towards the storage space. Hands on your back shoved you forward…probably madi. swallowing, you forced yourself to move your legs hesitantly.

“what’re you afraid i’ll bite you? just fuckin get in” Chris said irritability, causally leaning back with his arms folded in the closet. You headed to the opened door.

—————————————————————————

HERES THE LINK TO PART 2 :

[octuscle]

Condemned

Mario's life was actually going quite well right now. He had successfully completed his university studies. He had gotten a well-paid and challenging job. And he had even found an affordable apartment just three subway stops away from his office. The only thing that bothered him was that he hardly ever got any exercise. In college, he had had an athletic body. Now he had lost a bit of muscle mass. What he would give to get back in shape, he thought to himself as he climbed the stairs from the subway.

At the top of the sidewalk, unmistakably squeezed into bright red skin-tight compression garments, stood a simply stunningly handsome young man at a promotional booth. He held out a drinking cup to Mario. "The ultimate way to get in shape quickly and sustainably," he said, smiling the brightest smile imaginable. Mario took the cup, smiled back and kept walking. Wait, had the young man's eyes just lit up red? Mario turned around. There was no more booth. "I really need a vacation," Mario thought to himself.

When he arrived at the office, it was meeting after meeting. Mario had already forgotten about the cup he had left on his desk. He only remembered it when he was packing up his things after a long day. He took a closer look at the cup. It was a cup like the one he had used in the gym. He unscrewed the lid. Inside were several small pouches containing a powder. An accompanying note that recommended taking one sachet in the evening with water instead of dinner, and consuming one sachet during each workout. And a gift certificate to a gym in the middle of nowhere in New Jersey. It was too late for dinner now anyway. So Mario filled the cup, poured the contents of a pouch into the cup, screwed it shut and shook. The cup glowed red for a moment. Mario took a first sip. The taste was no different from most energy drinks. On the way to the subway, Mario drank the cup down. And at home, he took the stairs to the tenth floor. Fuck, yes, this stuff gave energy.

At 04:00, Mario was wide awake. If he wanted to work out before the office, he had to leave now. It took him an hour to get to the gym, an hour back. And he wanted to lift iron for at least two hours. On the subway, he realized he didn't have anything with him except his laptop bag. Was that normal? It felt normal… When he entered the gym at 05:00, Steve grinned at him at the front desk and greeted him with a fistbump. "If I had to bet on who would come first today, I would have bet on you," he said. Mario grinned back and replied that nothing comes from nothing. As he walked remotely into the locker room, he wondered if he had really been here before… He walked to his locker and opened the padlock, just as he had done it felt hundreds of times before. He undressed, hung his suit, shirt and tie in the locker and took his training clothes. All still damp from the last workout. No matter, he would have been soaking wet again in fifteen minutes anyway. Mario took his cup, filled it with a portion of the powder and refilled it with water from the dispenser. And then he went to work out.

Shit, when he pushed the dumbbells off him with the last of his strength after the last set, it was already 07:30. Shaving after showering had to be cancelled. With a lot of luck he had managed to be in the office at 09:00. The lady at the reception smiled painedly that he probably still had to get used to the dress code. Yes, he had probably forgotten his shirt and tie at home this morning. But the T-shirt looked great under the suit. Mario felt that way. His boss looked at him reproachfully when he arrived at the customer meeting a few minutes late. Mario found it very difficult to concentrate. He was relieved when it was time for the lunch break. Customers and colleagues looked at him questioningly when he ordered the 500-gram steak with green salad without dressing. "Mass phase," he said apologetically. And started talking about his diet plan. After the customers said goodbye, he was called into his boss's office. He gave him a lecture the likes of which Mario had never heard in his life. Even though it was hard for him, he pulled himself together to try to work through his to-do list. It was getting late when he left the office. But basically, he had been primarily surfing the Internet.

The next morning, Mario didn't arrive at the office until 09:45. At least he had remembered to wear a shirt today. Even if it stretched dangerously across his chest. The meetings today were even more exhausting than usual. His goal was not to fall asleep. He didn't want to stay longer than 5:00 p.m. anyway. Tonight he wanted to work out one more round of chest. Somehow he managed to get through the day. But the fact that he was doing dips on the countertop in the coffee kitchen and squats while waiting in front of the elevator led to more than one questioning look from his colleagues. But all he could think about was working out. And maybe sex.

Fuck, that had been a killer workout. Once home, he wondered if he should have another pouch, even though he'd already had one for both workouts today. A lot helps a lot, he thought to himself. And fell into bed exhausted after drinking.

The fact that he showed up at the office the next day at 10:30 a.m., unshowered and wearing a tracksuit, might not have been enough of a reason to quit. But the fact that he first had to jerk off in the restroom while his boss was standing next to him was reason enough. Security escorted him to the door. And said goodbye with a pithy handshake. It would be a shame to lose a beefcake like Mario on the team. And gave him the business card of the security service he worked for. They could always use a fella with an imposing body.

Mario had been living rent-free in the basement of the gym for two months. In exchange, he worked as a janitor and factotum. Only a few hours a day, the rest was spent preparing for the next competition. There was always a next competition. And it was only half a year until Mr. Olympia. He took a sip from his cup. He was condemned to success!

I'm glad you condemned me to this story, @rapids0!

[belle--ofthebrawl]

@enragedtiefling @riconas

The aftercare for the Ghangbang, as requested.

Some sexual content. They're all still naked and need to get cleaned up.

Aether's by his side in the come down. Swiss carried Rain off to the bathroom, tutting about how useless he was on the way. Mountain's breathing hard on the nape of Dew's neck, kissing the knob at the top of his spine as his knot pulses and starts to shrink. 

"Amazing," Aether's whispering reverently, rubbing his thumb over the bump of Dew's hip. "Dew, you were amazing." 

There's more but Dew's so out of it, he doesn't hear anything. Just stares at Aether as he pants and shudders and squirms on Mountain's cock, watches the way his lips form the gentle words. 

Swiss comes back at some point, sans Rain. Drops off a few water bottles and scratches Aether between his horns, bends to kiss Dew's damp face. There's something said about a bath and snacks but that's when Mountain grunts, starts to lift Dew off and he kinda goes out of his mind at the sudden emptiness, scrabbling his fingers over Mountain's thighs.

"Easy," Aether coaches, grabbing carefully at Dew. "Claws away, love.  Mountain, can you-"

"Sure." The big guy says, sounding just as out of it as Dew.

"Never mind," Aether says quickly. "I got him." 

Dew's rolled off Mountain's thighs onto fabric that isn't bedsheets. It's soft and fluffy and smells like the ocean; one of Rain's ridiculously plush bath towels. Dew curls the fabric up in his hands  and inhales while Aether counts for him. Four seconds in, seven seconds holding, eight seconds out.  He hears a cap unscrew and a hand tuck itself under his head, lifting him up to drink.  He sips, staring blearily up at Aether, still murmuring kindness he can't make sense of. He thinks he finishes the whole thing. He slips in and out a few times, thinks he feels Mountain kiss his forehead before leaving.

Becomes startling aware when a warm and heavy weight is pressed just under his belly button. He draws his limbs up close but Aether soothes him, tucks his hair back.

"It has to come out." He says kindly. "Can you let go for me, love?"

Dew's face screws up at this impossible request. He wants to plead with Aether to let him hold onto it just a little bit longer, keep everything inside him with a plug like Swiss threatened but the hand on his tummy bears down on the swell and Dew can't clench down tight enough to make a difference anymore. He's too relaxed, too fucked out and soft. It makes him whine a bit, feeling the hot cum leak out of his abused hole, soaked up by the towel below but Aether quiets him down with a kiss that Dew melts into.

"We never leave you empty for long, do we?" He murmurs when they part. "Just for now, sweet thing. We need you clean and fresh for next time, yeah? Can't put you away all dirty."

Dew shivers as Aether reaches between his legs, under his poor, aching little cock to pet carefully at his gaping rim. His touch is entirely clinical, spreading Dew to help the mess spill out, dipping his fingers in to probe and push everything onto the towel. Dew's little legs hook into air, jerking randomly as his arms loop around Aether's neck to pull him in for another deep kiss. He's so sore but Aether is so soft and careful with him that tears well up and cling to his lashes, something huge and strange twisting in his heart and making his throat close up.

"That's it," Aether says as he takes Dew apart one final time. "That's it, sweetheart. Let me have it all and I'll be the first one to fill you back up."

___________

He hates think of it as 'passing out'. Seems too weak and frail, even if that's pretty much what happens, what he is when they're through with him.

 He comes to when Aether sits in the water with him, perfectly warmed and laced with scents to calm and relax. It can hardly be called a tub when it's so big. Bathing pool might be a better word for it, deep enough to swim in with ledges all around for sitting.

"Hey," Swiss says lazily. "How's he doin'?"

"Just fine," Aether says fondly. "How's the princess?"

"Oh, you know." There's a splash as Swiss makes some vague hand-gesture. "Floating. Purring. That is one happy water ghoul."

Dew manages to crack an eye open to see where Rain's floating in the center, hair fanned out and moving softly with the waves. He's humming, on and off, a little tune that Dew recognizes from his own time as a water ghoul; one of safety and love, Sung only in the privacy of the den with mates and pack.

He hides his smile in Aether's chest. 

"Hey, you." Aether calls out as Mountain finally joins them, carrying a giant wooden bowl of fruit. "Toss us a few, yeah?"

Mountain rumbles and there's sploshing as he floats the bowl over, taking a bite out of a pear as he hauls Rain to sit on his lap, throwing an arm across Swiss' shoulders. Aether grabs a few and sends the bowl back across the pool. Dew hears a little hiss as Aether punctures a peel and when he next breathes in, the air stings with fresh citrus. 

"Open." Aether tells him and Dew turns his little face up, lips parted for Aether to fit the section in between. He chews it slowly, savoring the sweet burst of juice over his tongue and lets Aether feed the rest of it to him, as Swiss flicks water at Rain and Mountain rumbles in disapproval. 

Quietly, but not so quietly no one else can hear, Dew starts humming where Rain left off, weaving the melody in with the quiet purrs and content rumbles of his packmates.

[brella-boi]

Building Dango: Part 4

We're so far in and still have so fucking much to do. I am fearing I may not have this guy made in time. Which I'll have to stomach through clenched teeth.

We're moving on to priming. And I'll be using Flexbond for this. I previously used a spray version, which fucking stinks. (If any of you guys remember the making of my kenku fursuit then you remember the horrors of gassing my family.)

This is odourless and I can slap quite thick bits of it on there.

It's water based and kinda smells like PVA glue (suspicious...) but honestly it worked wonders. I was hoping it would cover up the majority of roughness and imperfections, and with three coats, it did mostly that! Kudos to my friend for pointing me in the direction of this substance.

It took about 3-4 hours to dry on each coat, and I could safely do it inside. Unfortunately there are paintbrush streaks. But I can stomach that.

In between waiting for the coats to dry, I got to work on the eyes. I'm using this mesh as the base. It's nice and thick, does have a bend to it, and has fantastic view through the many holes in it. And since it's already black, I only need to paint the pupil. Though I have also painted a set of eyes for a friend that were fully painted and they looked fine too. Poking any clogged up holes IS a chore though, so to make sure there's as little of that as possible, you gotta water down your acrylic paint and slowly work your way up with coats. I haven't tried dried brushing it, mainly because that method is quite messy, and watered down colour worked better for me.

However, this didn't go without a tragedy. While trying to get the paint to dry faster, I often use a hairbrush. But. Well I was holding the mesh up in the air and drying it. And I guess I held the hairbrush too close and it bent the metal just enough to make dents from where my fingers held it. And. Unfortunately. Begudgingly. I could not restore the mesh back. So I had to paint the second eye all over again. So if you're drying with a hairbrush- do so on a flat surface.

For the JAW.

And here's where I start to realise I'm doing this backwards.

For the Jaw I will be using chicago screws. Originally I was going to use this hinge I got off etsy from a polish maker:

But Dango's head is already quite. Tight. And these would add another centimeter on each side of the head and there's just not enough space for that- nor do I think they would fit actually....

SO HERE WE ARE: CHICAGO SCREWS.

Chicago screws are originally used for leather work, and come in various sizes. The main body of the screw is sleek, so the jaw can freely move around on the middle part, while the actual tube is hollow with end being the 'screw' part. This screw part will be inside the jaw so I can freely unscrew it if I ever need to. While two pieces of my high density foam are about 2cm in thickness when smooshed together, I opted for 17mm thick screws instead. Which meant I head to drill holes, then indents into those holes, to make sure the screws fit in.

I did this because A: the flat part of the screw is going to poke through to the outer layer of the skull that will not have fabric covering it. It needs to be flush with the skull so that its not as easily seen. I made it sink into the foam by another 1-2mm so I could then cover it in sculpting foam and then.... prime it again. Like an egit. Anyway. And B: I didn't want the screws to poke me into my cheeks. Even though they're flat, Id rather drill into the foam and have it flush against it then poke out and be texture hell yanno?

Always test the drill bits on scraps though before you commit to the real deal! It took me a while to get the hang of the actual drill bit of my rotary carver, but in the end I was confident in actually drilling the mask.

ISN'T THIS CLEAN. God I'm so proud of it.

So I was drilling again after priming shit. I should've done this before the priming stage. But tbf they only arrived in the mail after I primed so. Whatever. (spoiler: this isnt the last time I pull out the fucking carver)

THE JAW IS HINGED.

And we continue working....

[ellies-cycling-notes]

Day 9: Vienna (Rest Day)

Distance Covered: 0 miles

Total Time: N/A

Average Speed: N/A

Apples Eaten: 1 (jazz - 7/10)

Today was quite an eventful rest day. I spent most of the morning relaxing, then in the early afternoon, we went to a bike shop to get a fix ups for my bike. We left my bike there, but when we came back a few hours later, they said that my back wheel was cracked and I needed a new one, but they didn't have one they could sell me. Luckily, as the area has a large biking community and is right next to the Washington & Old Dominion Trail, there were multiple other bike shops we could check out nearby. We checked 2, and the second one had a set of wheels I could buy, but not a single wheel. I ended up getting those wheels, as well as a new tire for my back wheel. At the bike shop, I asked that they only move the cassette to the new wheel (the part of the wheel which has the gears on it) and then we took my bike back to the place I'm staying to fix it up.

Fixing the Bike

Fixing my bike consisted of two main parts: changing the wheels, and then adjusting the brakes. For both parts, Andrew, one of my hosts, was very helpful in getting things done quickly and correctly.

Changing the Wheels: The back wheel was pretty easy to deal with, just removing the old wheel from the bike, then putting a new tube and tire on the new back wheel and putting it back on. There were a few issues fitting the wheel in with the cassette, but it still took no time at all. The front wheel took longer, for a few reasons. For one, at first the bolt keeping the old wheel on the bike was a little tight, so it took a little jostling to get it loose to take the wheel off. Then, for some reason, even with the air pumped out of the tire, it was difficult getting the tube and tire off the wheel. When I eventually managed to do so, I put them on the new wheel, and fitted the new wheel onto the bike. I had to replace the front skewer with a new quick-release skewer because the old one didn't fit the new wheel.

The hardest part of actually changing the wheels was probably pumping their air. It would have been easy to do it with a normal-sized floor pump, but I have a new small floor pump I wanted to test out. It was quite easy to pump up to ~40 psi, but I needed to get my wheels to ~100, and the rest was an uphill battle. I actually had to take a break while pumping one of the tires up to rest my arms.

Adjusting the Brakes: After putting the back wheel back on, we realized that the brakes were not properly adjusted with the new wheel. Unfortunately, the brakes were a little stuck and we couldn't move/rotate them, even by screwing/unscrewing all possible bolts around and on the brakes. So, while I started working on the front wheel, Andrew continued to work on the brakes for the back. He was able to figure out the correct way to adjust them. He figured it out, and I am extremely grateful, because I don't think it's something I could've fixed on my own.

After adjusting the brakes, I rode my bike around the driveway a little bit to test it out, and everything felt fine.

Other than the strenuous bike repair, today was a lazy rest day, without much going on. Tomorrow is the start of what should be the most exciting part of the ride: the C&0 and GAP bike trails, both rail trails that when combined go all the way from Washington, DC to Pittsburgh - this means for the next few days, almost all my riding will be on bike trails! I just hoped that they're mostly paved.

Hope y'all enjoyed today's slightly-longer-than-usual rest day post!

Previous -- Today's Pics -- Next

[maximuswolf]

Delonghi Dedica mod gone wrong need advice

Delonghi Dedica mod gone wrong, need advice Hello,I modded my delonghi Dedica long time ago to have the other steam wand and it's been working great until now.Yesterday I wanted to check if nothing is leaking so I opened it again but this time I accidentally opened 2 wrong screws which were the screws holding the end of the 2 thin hoses going to the espresso head.It popped out and there was a cone shaped spring with a plastic ball on top in the middle of it. There is also an O-ring there.Since it popped out, I didn't manage to see the orientation the spring was inside.I didn't take a picture of it but I will try to open it tomorrow again to take picture but maybe some of you know what I'm talking about until I do so. Here's an illustration of that: https://ift.tt/Taz0lbj not sure I inserted the spring back in the right direction (although it seem the most logical way it goes inside), or if something else is causing the issue because now the machine has a problem:When I put the portafilter and press the espresso button, the handle starts unscrewing itself as if there's too much pressure that pushes it out.Or, the problem is because I didn't screw something else tight enough and it's not holding the portafilter strong enough? There were a few long screws, few short and 1 a bit longer than all the othersWhen I left it unattended, the portafilter blew away with force (and broke the glass)Maybe I didn't put the screws in the correct place? (Some screws are longer and some are shorter)Is there any manual for that? Last time I did it I took pictures of the screws location but this time I didn't and I don't have it anymoreThanks Submitted February 26, 2023 at 09:03AM by ligonsker https://ift.tt/W3sjZuw via /r/Coffee

[all-things-fic]

Spoilin’ for a Fight

A/N: Happy Sunday loves! Hope you’ve all had a lovely and restful weekend. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you... I have indeed (finally) posted another piece of writing. Here’s 6.7k of Harry riling up his partner all because of a bloody vest.

Thank you as always for all the love and patience everyone has given me. Especially @waitingfortwilight, @haute-romance-quotidienne and @harryfeatgaga. Hopefully this lives up to any hype the sneak peek created! I’m going to disappear again .x 

***

You rolled your lips into your mouth as you watched him walk his way around your master bedroom. His movements were confidently familiar as he tucked his vest into the waistband of his white boxer-briefs and kept his eyes down to the dress shirt and trousers he had laid out across your bedspread, sitting next to choice accessories. 

He was running late. Both you and he knew it. Yet the leisurely motions he undertook would never have told you that if you didn’t already know. The way he had taken longer in the shower, carelessly stepped out of the towel (and stepped over it too, meaning the item was now damp and in a bunched up pile closer to Harry’s side of the bed waiting for someone to put it in the laundry basket) and meandered his way through getting ready. 

Boxers first, then black ankle socks. Then the bloody vest. 

You exhaled through your nose, trying not to release a breath that would catch his attention and let him know that you were becoming slightly vexed by how lackadaisical he was choosing to be.

The vest had to go.

Not even in a sexual way either. 

And it wasn’t the fact that it just wasn’t doing it for you - on the contrary it was quite the opposite, the tight item clearly letting you ogle and appreciate the fine specimen you were proud to call your partner - but it was just how much of grandad-move it was.

You understood how having some sort of undershirt kept his actual shirt looking pristine acting as a defensive layer between his body and his clothing.

But, the vest had to go. 

It just had to.

Blindly reaching down to your dresser for your tube of mascara, you unscrewed the gold lid and coated the wand with product. 

Mouth slightly fallen, you washed your lashes with the High Density Black mascara and quickly made the switch to the other eye making sure to get your bottom lashes too. 

Looking at Harry through the mirror, you wondered what he could be debating as he stood silently in the middle of the room. A soft frown traced his brow, his eyes looking down at the bed. His hands were digging into his waist, as his lips jutted slightly in thought. 

Your conclusion was that he was debating his outfit choice for the evening. 

Lid gently screwed back on, you placed your mascara into your cosmetic vanity, before then reaching out for your brow gel. A quick brush through each side and you were done with that step.

You happened to quite like his outfit choice. It was a little less formal than usual for one of your dinners. Classic houndstooth patterned trousers and smart black shirt. The kind of material that made a scratching noise which was music to your ears as you clawed at your man, wanting him closer. Whether that was in the booth of a restaurant, on the car ride home while you were sat at a red traffic light, or when he had you pinned against the locked door for your house. 

Eyes dropping, you watched as your hands - with freshly lacquered nails - gently drew the opening of your silky-satin dressing gown together as it started to gape. 

From your fidgeting, Harry’s attention was stolen by the movement he had seen in his peripherals and when you next looked up at him in the mirror you were met by his already awaiting gaze.

His face looked worn, as his still slightly damp hair fell across his forehead. Lines lingered in his skin from the way his head was tilted and his arms were bent as his hands faffed around with what appeared to be a trinket box. He must’ve reached for it at some point while you were otherwise occupied. 

Gold cross dipping underneath the neckline of the vest, the width of his chest seemed to be getting wider the longer you kept your eyes on his reflection. In moments like this you always became hyper aware of the amount of tattoos that were scattered across his body - arms, shoulders and chest. If you were able to let your eyes drop lower, you were sure the ones of his legs would be just as vivid.

But while everything else about him just seemed content in the moment, his eyes were different. They were strong as they held yours. Waiting for something. 

And you knew you couldn’t keep his gaze as you let your words leave your throat, albeit with less conviction than you originally thought them.

If you were after a bicker before dinner then he was absolutely going to bite and give you what you wanted. You just knew it. 

“You’re not going out in that, are you?”

“‘S there a problem ‘f I am?”

A charged pause.

Harry’s remark was shot out instantly, on yours as fast as a predator was on their prey. 

Inhaling deeply through your nose, you looked back at him through the mirror. A slant to his lips as he waited once more.

Gentle raise of his eyebrows. Faint but definitely there. Goading. Knowing you would be so aware of every moment, every twitch with your eye for detail. His eyes shone in a way that he was daring you.

Oh, he was spoiling for a fight. Most definitely. 

See, this wasn’t new territory for you and Harry. He knew that it sometimes got on your last nerve in how he opted for a vest to cover his top half as an undershirt but especially when he only wore that as the item of choice and simply slung a suit jacket over the top to complete the outfit. 

Like that one time when he attended The Store X The Vinyl Factory's Transformer exhibition and swung by your then rented London townhouse after said event in the small hours only for you to chastise him on the doorstep for how he hadn’t even put on a proper shirt for the evening. 

That night he had teased you - “‘least let me in the door before you start dressing me down, darling. Especially considering ‘m halfway there with not putting on a clean shirt an’ everythin’” - in that slow draw that maddeningly managed to warm you through even when you were irritated with it’s orator. 

Blinking, you knew you needed to respond but you weren’t sure which route you wanted to take with your tact. 

“Not a problem, ‘s just not my favourite.”

“Didn’t realise we’d become tha’ sorta couple,” he paused, his sentence obviously not finished. When your eyes met his again, he continued, “The kind that tells the other what they can and can’t wear, can and can’t do.”

Sighing, you fiddled with your diamond earrings and spoke, “Forget I said anything.” 

“No, no,” he spoke clearly, ringless hands rising in defeat. “You don’t like the vest, ‘s fine. Allowed an opinion.”

“Nice to know.”

A suppressed laugh spluttered from Harry’s lips as he pressed them together. 

Looking at him again, you watched him wrinkle his nose up at you through the mirror. By now your gaze was flat and you were far from impressed with his taunting.

��Come on,” he encouraged, eyes alight.  “‘S have a row.” 

“I’d rather not.”

“‘S healthy to tell me to piss off every once in a while, y’know tha’?”

“So, piss off.”

“Ouch,” he dragged the word, playing offended. “Could say it wi’a bit less conviction next time.”

“That’s if we make it to a next time,” you muttered, seeing his smirk. “‘M not doing this.”

He watched the way you snatched at your other earring, your hands quick to try and place it gently to your lobe but in your haste you fell foul of losing the item. 

“Shit,” you hissed when the dainty jewellery slipped from your grip and to the wooden floor below with a dull clink. 

“Hang on-“

“It’s fine,” you rebutted any chance of his offering to help, swiping for the earring and managing to make good the second time around. 

There was tension in the air now as Harry remained quiet while you continued busying yourself, ignoring the bubble of annoyance and unexplained upset simmering within you.

Gently scooping at your necklace next, you fiddled with the clasp of the fine chain and tilted your neck down as you raised your hands and arms to place the necklace onto yourself. 

From behind you, Harry nervously chewed at his bottom lip. He knew the outcome wasn’t going to go well as he looked on at your slightly shaking hands struggling to successfully bring the two sides together. 

Rather than point out the possibility of ruining the nails that you had endlessly chewed his ear about all afternoon and constantly stuck under his nose to show off; he waited with baited breath, more than willing to step in if required.

It was when he heard the small and soft growl omit from your mouth with sheer frustration that he decided to change tact.

Gone was the trinket box, tossed aimlessly back onto the bed with a soft bounce. His hands gently placed to rest against taut shoulders, Harry leaned down to press his lips to the top of your head. Nose tickled by your hair he muttered into the silky strands, “Let me, darling.”

You froze as you sat in your seat, eyes still slightly lowered from the way you had dropped your head. Frantically blinking as you mulled over how you were going to play your next move. 

Harry hummed, noticing that you had gone quiet on him, knowing you wouldn’t want to engage with him just yet considering how soon he had previously provoked. He just had to wait it out a little more. 

A slump came to your shoulders at his words, partially irked at how he had been the one to coil your spring - pushing and pressing and prodding - and now he thought he could be the one to so easily offer you release. 

“Let me just-,” he spoke more so to himself, cutting himself off, as he scooped your hair into his hands and mumbled soft apologies considering he knew you had spent some time on styling. 

When he was happy that your neck was open enough and there wasn’t going to be anything to hinder him with your tresses over one shoulder, he reached for the item. 

Harry’s right hand met yours first, his thumb and forefinger easily pinching at the delicate chain that he knew so well having been the person to pick and purchase the item. 

Surprised at how easily you gave up the treasure, Harry darted his eyes to your left side and reached for the other side of the fine chain. 

“Have you got it?” You were reluctant to let the one side of the necklace go, in fear of losing the pendant that was currently bouncing against your chest from the way you held the jewellery item. 

Again, a throaty hum vibrated through Harry’s chest. 

“Which idiot chose the finicky clasp?”

“You did,” you outright answered him.

He chuckled in concentration, eyes zoned in on the way his thumbnail pressed at the clasp to hold it down, and his left hand fed itself to the right. “‘S right, I did. Fucking big idiot over ‘ere.”

You then felt the chain gently tickle the back of your neck as Harry let the item go. “But he’s only gone an’ bloody done it.”

Lightly sighing, you pressed your hand to your chest and felt the necklace sitting cooly against your hotter than usual skin. A soft smile at Harry’s choice of words to let you know he had successfully put on the necklace. 

Slightly inside your own head as you raised it to sit up straight, you quickly busied yourself with returning items that you had been using to get ready, to their rightful spots.

Behind you, you heard Harry chuckle as he gently dropped himself down to sit on the edge of your side of the bed. He was clearly amused at how you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

“Ignoring me now? Not even gonna gi’me a thank you?”

If you hadn’t been so stubborn, and focused on the task at hand you would have heard his question and thanked him. However, given your own bloody-mindedness, you never stood a chance. 

Learning forward, Harry’s hand reached down to one of the four legs that made up your dressing table pouffe - the one closest to him - and swiftly pulled. 

Of course, you squealed. The quick change in motion was enough to cause anyone to omit a noise fit only to dogs hearing due to its pitch. 

“‘Ve got yer,” he spoke around a chuckle, enlightened by your reaction as the chair scraped against the flooring and made it so you were virtually sat in his lap. “If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed...”

Sharply, you turned to look at him and pushed at his shoulder. “Hope you’re not implying-“

“Wha’,” his expression was boyishly cheeky as he cut you off with his question, his hand keeping hold of yours that had pushed his shoulder. “What am I implying?”

Nostrils flared as you looked at him, feeling your arm slowly wrap around his neck as he tried to pull you closer once more on the chair. Legs man spread, he managed to slot you in between his thighs and enjoyed the way your soft knees squashed into his inner thigh from how close you now were. 

“I’m implying what the proverb is implying,” he smarmily responded, forever having an answer for everything.

“Is that so?”

“It is,” he turned, noting the way your arm was still draped around his neck.

“Shame that,” you commented. “Cause if you were alluding to the other thing then you would’ve really gotten the fight you were looking for.”

Harry’s eyes cut to you from the corner of his vision, his lips now pressed gently against your forearm. “Would I? If that’s the case, I take it back.”

Again your nostrils flared, as you mumbled a veiled threat of, “Swear to god, Harry.”

“So, so easy to wind up-“

Harry’s voice was abruptly cut off when your fingers came into contact with the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled as hard as you could. His only response was to gently graze his teeth to the skin of your arm and the silk of the gown in the tiniest of nips as he ascended to your neck.  

“D’yeh know how much I love fighting with you?” He mumbled against your skin, “How much I love doing anything and everything with you?”

“Have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” you swallowed around your dry response, feeling his lips quirk against the shoulder of your silk gown as he gently brushed your hair away once more.

With it falling down your back, you became all too aware of the gape to your coverup, revealing your clavicle and the top of your breast, as Harry’s lips rubbed against where your neck and shoulder met. 

Growl-like hum heard from your suitor, you gently pushed your finger through his drying hair. Forcing it in haphazard directions before bringing it back and smoothing it down. 

When he showered you with affection like he was currently doing, it was hard to stay mad at him. Which is why you found the direction of conversation so intriguing. What was he trying to achieve here? Whatever it was, he really was going the wrong way about it. 

“Know why I love fighting?” He felt you shake your head lightly as he brought you back to him with the question. The rustle of your hair against his was heard prominently in your ears as he now lightly rested his forehead to your temple. “Yea’, you do,” he disagreed with your non-verbal response, tone gritty as he tried to rouse once more. 

“‘S cause I love shagging when we’re angry,” he heavily pressed his nose into your cheek, knowing you were watching him through the hooded eyelids regardless of how you wouldn’t fully let your gaze meet his long enough to be suckered in. “How you really dig your nails into my back an’ shoulders when I properly get going - not to mention my arse cheeks - and how it feels when I step under the shower the next morning and wince like a little wuss.”

You laughed breathily, stopping your feelings of joy by biting down on your bottom lip. Laughter however played on your lips, lingering in a soft smile that danced along and up the corners of your mouth.

“Fight me, darling.” 

Amused didn’t even cover it as you pulled your head back in a slightly uncomfortable way to look at him. The smoulder of his dilated eyes that were clearly set on what he wanted, they jarred so evidently against his messy hair that looked fit for a toddler who had woken from a heavy nap.

He seemed awfully whiny for a man who was confident with what he wanted. Supposed to be the instigator of an exchange of diverging or opposite views, creating most likely a heated happening. Then again, maybe he was onto something.

Soft frown set in the middle of his brows, his eyes dropped so brazenly down to your lips. A quick swipe of your tongue had them glistening enticingly for him as saliva lingered and caused his groan to get caught in his throat. 

Hand against the back of your head, he tilted your face down to his once more and let his mouth sit at the corner of your lips. Your breathing and his had started to become staccato, as anticipation bubbled within you both from your shared close proximity. 

“‘M waiting,” you challenged knowing he would rise up to the provocation, as his hand turned you face a tiny amount more so when he stuck his nose against yours, so they would slot perfectly together.

Harry’s vision blurred as he felt your warm breath bounce against his face, licking his own lips now and rolling them into his mouth to take away any dryness. 

Hand drawing you to him and mouth about to take your bottom lip, he felt the soft draw back of your head causing his lips to tweak as his breathy laugh mixed within his short and sharp exhalations. 

“‘S tha’ how it’s gonna be?“

You fought the way your hooded eyes wanted to close at the gruff tone that laced his question, wanting to marvel in the glow that had started to coat the skin of his face. 

“Said you wanted a fight.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth were his lips abruptly upon yours. His hand spread across your entire cheek as your free hand reached for his wrist and tightly gripped. Noses squashed from the force; desperate to have each other. 

Harry's lips were fierce and bruising, his body feeling heavier against yours as he rested his other hand against your chair and gave you more of his weight. 

For him your smell was everywhere, as your other arm wrapped around his neck and clawed at the fabric of that bloody vest. The sweet of your hair care juxtaposed against the woody florals of your perfume that sensually drew and tied him to you.

Knees knocking together, you felt the way his hand stumbled as it peeled away from the chair and clawed at the silky fabric of your gown. Fingers quickly became frantic as his concentration moved to his hands that lifted fabric and slipped underneath craving the feel of your warm, soft skin.

With his mouth slightly slower and fallen as he was pulled elsewhere, you tried to take the lead as his hands wandered and he explored.

His hands were softer than usual, time away from music and instruments meaning the callouses had faded. Short nails were dull as they clawed, fingertips dancing against your plush thighs as they flattened to the seat and then upwards along your hip, scooping around your back and confidently spreading out just shy of the top of your bum.

God, he loved knowing you were completely naked underneath. How with a quick and sharp tug of his hand, he would have you bare to him.

Small press against your lower back had Harry silently asking you to raise and fall into his lap. You ignored him at first, far too wrapped up in the way he gave you his tongue around his quivering lips that were trying not to smile at the way the two of you were shamelessly necking on and he was managing to get his own way. 

Pressing your toes into the patterned antique Persian rug which sat underneath your bed, your body created a break between your thighs and their seat. Harry took advantage of the space without any need for a nudge, his hands curling against the clammier, warm skin as he urged you once more to come to him.

Your knees hit the side of your mattress first, lifting and mounting Harry’s lap and he moaned as he enjoyed your full weight against him. Fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, you felt him squeeze as he started to lower himself down to the bed.

Body laying atop an outfit priced easily in the early thousands, Harry hummed clearly letting you know how pleased he was with himself. This was only solidified by the crack of his hand, as it slapped against you bare bum cheek now on show. 

“Can’t believe you’ve got your arse in the air like this,” he rasped, head lifted so he could leave lingering kisses to the hinge of your jaw. 

Mouth slightly dropped, you could feel the way his right hand danced against the curve of your cheek and the way it dipped as it met the back of your thigh. 

His eyes were on your face, chin soft as he tilted his head down to his chest. You admired him, somehow able to find a stillness woven within a intoxicated, sensual love between the lewdish comments and suggestive wandering hands. 

Lips melding to the skin of your cheek, he asked,  “Who’re you showing it off to?”

“You, ‘f you want it like that.”

The coolness of the room hit your bare skin even more as Harry roughly pushed up the fabric of your gown up as he palmed your cheeks once more, skin massaged and squeezed between his digits.

Raw groan, he found his voice, “Turn over for me.” 

Harry slid himself closer to the side of bed, hands making light work of his socks and his briefs before he turned to throw you a glance over his shoulder.

You had removed your gown, item somewhere now on the floor revealing yourself to him proudly. 

As you lay gently on your stomach, the expanse of your bare back on show for him. He greedily let his eyes wander, the curvature of your shoulders and the indentation of your spine line. 

The way your right leg was slightly bent creating a crease to your hip and your left leg a little straighter. You certainly gave him plenty to devour with his sight. 

He didn’t give it much thought when he joined you back on the bed, his hands pressing into the mattress closer to your head.

Bare fingers caught your attention as you watched his hands scrunch around his expensive dress shirt, the familiar scratching sound music to your ears as it caught against his nails and not yours for once while he threw it to the floor at the bottom end of the bed.

“Doesn’t look like we’re going to make it to tha’ dinner,” he spoke, his words not really warranting an answer. Beside your hips, you could feel his knees as he leaned for the trousers on the other side of you and pushed them out of the way too.

He continued with, “Already late. ‘S no point.”

From the way he spoke you wondered if this was what he had been aiming for all along. To scrap dinner and have his way with you. It wouldn’t have been the first time and definitely not the last. 

Eyes already heavy from the deep lull of Harry’s voice, they closed when you felt his lips hit your back, making light work of inhaling you in. His mouth was wet as he reacquainted his lips with your skin, suckling the lower he got.

Nose gently sweeping down, you found yourself dropping your forehead to your forearm giggling from the light tickle, only to sharply cry out as his teeth sunk into the top of your cheek and your head lifted once more. 

Your hand reached behind you pressing against his forehead, “Don’t you dare leave a love bite on my bum.”

His lips twitched at your squealed but breathy chastise, tongue laving against the startings of a mark. “Always begrudging me of eating, darling.”

A devilish grin laced his features as you dared to look over your shoulder at him and take in his gaze that owlishly looked at you from behind your curved hip. All you could see were his eyes as your hand gently pushed his head while he pulled your hips upwards with him, lips skimming the backs of your thighs. 

“Mm,” he started. “Not everything though, ‘s tha’ right?”

The man simply didn’t want to part from his meal.

“You always did like dessert better.” 

There was nothing more Harry loved than when you let him put his face between your legs. But when you let him do it from behind, he couldn’t even explain the difference yet there was one.

Maybe it was the way he could grab and smack your arse, fingers digging into your hips as he got to pull you onto his face when things started to get hot and heavy. That animalistic grab to your hip bone, loins pulled onto his face as he went to town.

Even better when you would push back against him. So caught up in the way he felt that you couldn’t wait any longer. He could talk to you easier this way too, really coax you not only with the feel of his tongue but the words that dripped off it too. 

And then there was the possible anticipation of assplay. Tongue always ready and willing to stimulate if it were desired and communicated. 

The way his hands massaged you, softly pulling apart your rounded cheeks and opening you to the cool air of your bedroom almost stunned. Your body quickly gathered itself with a warm moan when you felt his warm salvia drip messily down onto your ass and your middle. 

Then he was leaning forward - lapping at your skin - lapping you up. Tongue greedy at your cheeks and folds, building his own desires before he actually ate. 

This was his starter. 

The most feminine gasp exited your open mouth when you felt his mouth land where you needed him the most, somewhat too cautiously for your liking at first but you knew he sometimes liked to play this game. You found yourself wiggling back, Harry’s hands wrapping around and squeezing into your thick thighs welcomingly when he knew you’d caught on. 

He hummed, pleased that you had fallen from his meek offerings and gave you more of his mouth. 

“There’s my girl.”

“H,” you panted, pressing your forehead onto your forearm. 

“Fuck,” he muttered against you, enjoying how you were letting him have a taste. Your sweetness quenching his starved fancy. 

You were wet, but he wanted you wetter. Just wet enough so that you were tacky when he tapped himself against you teasingly. 

With his eyes closed, Harry opened his mouth wider as he pulled your hips back to his lips. His nails dig into your skin as your hands clenched into the sheets beneath.

He worked slowly against you, tongue licking at your wetness and saliva mixing with your early arousal. Nose buried inside of you as he devoured you in a way that had you thinking he had been wanting you this way for weeks. A little bit rougher, grabbing you to him and not in the way that quickies usually brought. In a way that sex selfishly commanded sometimes. 

“God, baby-“ how was it always so- gratifying? 

With his eyes closed now as he tried to focus, Harry felt your body shuffle and his own limbs followed after you without restraint. Your bum became slightly raised as you pressed your arms deeper into the mattress due to the way you began to play with yourself.

Your fingers swiped upwards in gentle pulls against your clit, Harry’s mouth barely letting up. He must’ve figured out what you were doing though from your slight change in position as he hummed against your heat, light mutterings that you couldn’t make out. 

“‘S tha’ feel good?” he asked, voice hot as he pulled back to bring his focus onto the glide of your fingers against your wet and neglected clit. “Couldn’t wait, wanted to play.”

You knew you were slick, you could feel it but rather than feel embarrassed you found yourself without a care as you pushed yourself back again. His chuckle made you feel on fire, “Not done with me? Still need some more?”

His lips and tongue dove straight back in rather than wait for a verbal answer, feeling the way your legs widened further when he licked in a particular way. The smell and taste of you was everywhere, gleaming against him with a tackiness that was the perfect piece of free memorabilia. 

Breathing heavier, you both listened to every small gasp and light moan that was drawn from you. The sound of his lips pulling at you making a heat spread across your chest and down to your core.

Harry knew your reactions like the back of his hand, and was waiting for that one sound that was so sweet and enough to get him to cheekily pull away. 

The thought alone had his lips curving into a smile against you, as he felt you starting to clench against his tongue from your joint efforts of pleasure. 

“Harry,” you whispered, rushed. The slow burning feeling starting to form in the pit of your stomach as your fingers began to move with that little bit more fervour. “Want you.”

His mouth was away from you and against the skin of your bum cheek not long after, lips messily wiping as he moved them up your back leaving a trail of arousal in his wake as you felt yourself fall flat to the mattress as he mounted you. 

Hands pinched into the skin of your back, Harry pressed his pelvis against you. 

Feeling him nestled between the cheeks of your bum, caused your eyes to close. He was so full and hard for you, you couldn’t contain the throaty moan that accompanied his grind into the dip of your bum.

“‘M gonna fuck you,” he panted, hands sweeping your hair to one shoulder so his lips can find your skin again. “Want that, hm?”

Your fingers wove into the hair at the nape of his neck, as he craned his head to look at you. His left hand pressed into the bed, holding his entire weight as his right hand reached down for his leaking cock. 

“‘S this what you want- how you want it?” He goaded in question again, gently tapping himself against the skin of your bum before he slid himself down and watched as you slightly raised your own hips for him and started to reach behind you to encourage him to press his weight on top of you.

Harry lined himself up, pushing forward and shifting his eyes from his sinking cock and up your back to see your head dipping forward to fall between your shoulders. He knew he’d never grow tired of the welcomed blissful moan of ‘yes’ that always left your lips when he finally gave it to you.

Humming deeply, Harry bit around his smile as he started with shallow, teasing thrusts. A series of strokes that you found frustratingly sexy but knew as ones he wouldn’t be able to keep up due to his own insatiable desires. 

He swore, in the least teenage boy way possible, you were always tighter to him like this. Especially if you crossed your legs at your ankles behind him while he pushed into you. 

It was usually the position you adopted when you’d let him take you this way, however in the dusk evening he could feel that you had lifted your legs up so your calves were resting against his bum and holding him to you; cutting his shallow thrusting short to press and hold him deeper inside. 

As his pelvis flattened against your bum, he gritted his teeth and released a deep noise from the very back of his throat. The sound had you giggling, slightly wiggling your hips from beneath him, the moment quickly halted by one of his hands cupping at your skin.

“Darling, steady,” he warned.

“Come on,” you wiggled again. “Fuck me then.”

Pulling back, Harry nudged forward just as smooth, the intent behind his thrust obvious. Eyes dropped down he enjoyed the bounce of your cheeks from the force of his pelvis.

A content hum left your smiling lips as you jolted from each push of his hips; his grunts of exertion delightfully pleasurable as his hands pressed into the mattress next to your waist. 

Thrust measured - slow, hard and deep - knowing what they wanted and needed. How to get it too. Undulating and determined.

Harry’s eyes closed as he felt you squeeze him, your legs dropping away from the cheeks of his clenching arse and down to the bed with a soft bounce. You moved again and he followed, legs opening wider against the mattress beneath you both. 

The way your face was now half buried into the sheets, muffling your moans that were usually hot against his ear and coaxing him to places he was still dumbfounded he was able reach let alone find. 

Teeth gritted once more, he could feel the tightness in his limbs and lower back. The work of his hips was unyielding but you were opening up to him, only making him want to continue the steady rhythm. To push and pull. To chase.

And it was enough. It was nice. Simmering. And if you opened your legs just that little bit wider you could rub yourself against the sheets but you wanted to give as good as you could get. Being engulfed wasn’t going to give you that. 

“Give it to me,” you requested, “Harder, baby.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Really need it, don’t yer?”

He pulled you upwards, hands at the curve of your waist so his fingers indented and left lighter marks against your skin from the pressure.

Now on your knees he could really have his way with you. 

Soon the sound of your skin slapping together only started to add to the growing fire in the pit of his stomach and yours. The sound of it so obscene but so welcomed to both your ears. 

Harry’s eyes raked over your naked body, the pert cheeks of your arse bouncing enticingly against his hips, to the tops of your fingers that were fisting tightly into your bedsheets. Knuckles so prominent due to the unrelenting grip.

He had noticed that your body was on its way to folding in on itself, arms stretching above your head and hands finding purchase on your plush bed pillows closer to the top of the bed that had been reached and pulled for by your own lack of knowing what to do with your hands.

“D’ya love me?”

His question was so gritty. Throat dry from his heavy breathing. You found yourself collapsing again. 

Your body, in its lethargy, started to curl up into itself with hands pressed down and your legs bent as your arse begins to bob more against him rather than thrust itself back.

“Said d’ya love me.”

He was sharp with his thrust.

“So much-“

It was wet and it was gasped. Low moan as he cracked his hand against your cheek.

“‘S tha’ the sex talkin’,” he heaved goadingly, and you knew he was smiling. It wasn’t the sex talking, but it could be. Both so taken by the waves of pleasure that could easily sway even the most sound of minds.

You whined into your arm from his smarmy laugh, a writhe to your hips as Harry licked at his thumb and pressed it enticing against your arse. Gentle rubs had you gasping his name and pressing back, as his thumb slid down to collect your arousal that was sat coating your outer walls and his cock each time he retreated.

As you became more excited, his thumb pressed against you with a bit more pressure, gently popping inside and sitting there. 

“Harry,” you whined, the loudest you could around biting your lips, a soft frown forming against your brow at the pleasurable intrusion. 

“You fuckin’ love it,” he growled, watching as you pushed back against his next thrust. “You dirty mare.” 

Heavy frown against your brow, you dropped your head onto your forearm once more and felt yourself start to clench around him. “Yea’,” he muttered to himself, “You’re coming.” 

Nodding your head against your forearm, you felt his free hand rest onto yours that was pushed above your head. He pressed down, fingers slotting through yours as he grunted in time with his harder thrusts into you.

With shaking thighs and aching knees, you feel your mouth fall as his teeth grazed over your ear and his heavy pants warmed your already perspiring cheeks. 

“Don’t fight me,” he pleaded. “‘S nice to give in.”

His head was heavy against your temple, your hair messily in your face. You felt your expression fall as you teetered, starting to lean slightly more to one side. He was nodding, you didn’t know who to but you knew what about and you found yourself craving his narration of whispered ‘yeses’ but instead you were both overcome and the best he can do was huskily groan to encourage you.

Suddenly it tipped and your limbs started to shake as you pressed back against him both in want of more but more so to ground yourself so you didn’t collapse. He stuttered from your vigour but held you there, feeling you helplessly writhe and mercilessly squeeze around him. His cock grinding and dipping into you, drawing out each tremor, desperately seeking its own sexual gratification.

Your other hand was wrapped around his face, fingers digging into the back of his neck and whispering begs for him to come inside of you. Pleas of how you want him to give it to you. Fill you up.

And you were lewd because sometimes that was how he liked it.

Such a pretty face and pretty mouth - yours - speaking to him in such a way. Admonishment was forgotten. Who needed or cared for it when his balls were pulling up tight with each slap against you. 

And then he collapsed against you. His thighs roughly spread you as he clenched and groaned deeply - guttural - giving you everything he had. 

Blood rushed around his ears as he shuddered and shook, the force of his orgasm causing his hips to continue with little pushes just to be sure he was done. Lost to himself, the silence and his sensitivity. 

He roused to your dirty snicker, one of disbelief. Right hand wrapping behind to feel for his arse cheek and digging your nails there, wanting to keep him deep inside, or just behind you for long enough to feel him pressed flaccid and wet against your cheeks. 

The filthy reminder caused you to flush, as Harry shuffled behind you, lips seeking out your clammy skin. 

“Make you mad more often, ‘f tha’s my private penance.”

His words were muffled, spoken into your shoulder as his hands soothed and massaged over your joints in preparation for the aching reminders tomorrow. 

And the vest was still on. 

[suspiciousbystander]

You're afraid of tight space and unfortunately got stuck in an elevator with another VP agent - Chamber

The door was closing as you see Chamber running towards the elevator. He slipped his hand, stopping the door from closing. He stepped in then took a deep breath, he managed to catch the elevator.

“thanks for letting me in,” he smiled.

“I uh.. didn’t do anything. Sorry, I didn’t even see you running,” you put your phone back into your pocket.

“no worries. Anyway, heading to first floor?”

“yes. I have nothing to do today and I’m quite bored. I was thinking about having a lunch then maybe head to Killjoy’s lab,”

“hm.. lunch..” he murmured.

“uh, yes?”

You heard a crackle and the elevator stopped moving. It started moving again then the light went out.

“wh-what’s happening?”

Chamber grabbed you as the elevator started shaking. It was shaking quite hard as you covered your head and tried to maintain your balance. 

“hold onto me, y/n. I got you,”

“o-okay!”

You felt the elevator moving down faster, it was not normal. Chamber’s hand was holding you while the other hand was holding onto the railings by the wall. Fortunately, you were not falling down. The elevator completely stopped now and the light was still out. You realized that your head was covered by his hand as he was holding you close, to his chest. His heart was beating fast but then slowly got calmer.

“that’s quite the thrill. Are you hurt somewhere?” he finally let go.

“I’m alright, thank you for protecting me. How about you?”

“I have quite a great balance, no need to worry about me. But the light is still out. I’ll try something out. I want you to stay in the corner and just hold onto the railings, okay? We don’t know the situation yet, so just hold on. Just in case,” 

He sounded seriously worried about you that you actually blushed. Luckily, the light was out so he couldn’t see your ketchup face. He then approached the panel and took a small screw outta nowhere. He unscrewed the panel and started doing whatever he needed to do.

“okay.. nothing serious..” he murmured as he kept his hands busy.

The light flickered, startling you. You looked at him who looked back at you. But unfortunately, it went out again.

“that wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything. Maybe somebody finally realized that this elevator is.. uh.. out of service,”

“alright. I hope they fix it fast. I’m a bit worried..”

“I’m here. Hang on, I need to screw these back into place. I’ll be with you in a sec,”

You just looked at him. You then realized that your vision’s starting to get darker. You were afraid of tight space but you felt okay until a moment ago. 

“eh?” you felt your head spinning.

“y/n? H-hey!” he heard you and quickly got to you.

He held you as he saw you falling. He helped you sit on the floor and checked on you.

“what’s wrong? Tell me..”

“I’m.. afraid of tight spaces. I was okay until a moment ago, but then my vision gets darker..”

“slow down. No need to finish that. I want you to know that I’m here and I’ll stay with you, okay? I’m sorry that you have to go through this. Do you need Sage later, maybe?”

“n-no. I’ll be fine. I don’t want to make anybody worried about me too much..”

“okay. Then you can have me. I’ll stay with you the entire day, okay? At least let me do that. How about lunch? You said you wanted to have lunch, right? Do you want to go out with me? Ahem- for lunch?”

“aren’t you busy today, Chamber?”

“I’m not. I was heading to the first floor because I was cooped up in my workshop for too long. I need to take a breather. So, what do you think? Lunch with me, yes? My treat,” 

He reached your hand and put your hand on his cheek. You felt his smile as he was caressing his face with your hand. You went quiet, your face might even be able to boil an egg.

“c’mon, a date with me, mon cher. I know you’ve been looking at me for a while. The only answer I accept is ‘yes’..” he chuckled.

He kissed your hand and you felt him getting closer to you.

“Ch-Chamber..”

The light went back on. You both were looking at each other. Chamber quickly moved away, noticing how close you two were.

“ahem- my apologies. Shouldn’t be too agressive. Here, let me help you up,” he looked away, his face was red.

The elevator started moving, it was working okay. He stayed quiet the whole time until the door finally opened.

“I didn’t know you’re that gentle, Chamber. Usually, you’re uh.. quite playful,”

“only in front of you. Well, I need to uh.. go..” he cleared his throat.

“oh and um. Thanks for the distraction,”

“no problem,”

“is the offer still up?” 

“offer?” he repeated you.

“y-yeah.. the date..”

He turned his head towards you then smiled. He was glad to hear what you just said. It was literally a ‘yes’ to his offer.

“of course. And I’ll stay with you for the rest of the day if you don’t mind. And may I call you ‘mon-cher’ from now on?”

“hm? What does that mean?”

“just a little nickname that I think will suit you. Anyway, lunch?”

“sure!”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Love Potion

Request: What about a Draco imagine where she is dared to put a love potion in his drink by ron hermione and harry. And he ends up drinking it?

A/N: Here’s your request! I hope you like it! I’ve made some slight changes, but I hope you like it regardless. I’ve made the effects of the love potion a lot gentler than what would be experienced; I’ve tried to make it look like Draco has a great love for the reader that he doesn't mind showing, but not in a way that would bring any cause for worry.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: love potion

Word count: 2.7k

She was going to hell; she was sure of it. If she wasn’t going to hell, she was going to be tormented by this for months.  

The love potion sits heavy in her pocket as she walks into the Great Hall for breakfast. Spying her friends at the Gryffindor table, she heads towards them.

Hermione spots her first, “Morning, (Y/N). Did you sleep well?”

She frowns at her, “Not particularly.”

Ron finishes the food in his mouth before he asks, “Do you have it then?”

“Yes, but I really hate this idea.”

“It’s a dare, (Y/N). You should have picked truth.” Harry states as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“If I had chosen truth, you would have asked if I had a crush on anyone and I am not ready to release that information yet.”

Harry rolls his eyes, smiling at her, “We all know you have a crush. We just don’t know who on.”

“Exactly, and you won’t ever know. That’s the exact reason why I picked dare. I just didn’t think you would dare me to essentially drug Malfoy.”

“What are you so worried about?” Ron asks, grabbing a piece of buttered toast from the centre of the table.

“You’ve dared me to drug Malfoy. He isn’t exactly the happiest bunny, is he? If he finds out I did this, he’s going to make my life hell. More so than he already does. I can take being called names but who knows what he’ll escalate to after this.” She drops her head into her hands, regretting the day she was ever born.

Hermione casts a worried glance over her, “She’s right. Who knows what the reaction to this will be? It might not be the smartest idea.”

Ron starts to splutter indignantly, “You were up for this last night!”

Hermione nods, “And now I’m saying it’s a bad idea. (Y/N), if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

Ron sighs, “If you don’t do this, you forfeit, and you have to tell us your crush. I can already guarantee you that I’ll be making fun of you. This is a chance for you to get some revenge on him though, for everything he’s called you.”

She sighs, weighing up her choices. Malfoy hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to make her life difficult but her friendship with the ‘Golden Trio’ meant that she would be in the firing line of any rudeness sent their way.

“I don’t even know how I’m going to slip him the potion.”

“Drop it in his drink?” Ron suggests, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“I thought of that Ronald! But how do I get close enough to him to put it in his drink?”

Ron is silent for a moment before shrugging, “Now that is the question.”

She groans, letting her head fall back onto the table. Harry begins to laugh but is quickly stopped by a swift kick to the ankle from Hermione.

“That’s it!” She announces, slapping her hands onto the table, “I’m going to do it.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione watch her walk away.

“This has the potential to backfire horribly,” Harry murmurs; Hermione hums in agreement.

She has reached the Slytherin table now; silently thanking every god and deity that Draco is sat somewhat apart from his friends as he eats his breakfast.

“Draco?” She asks, quietly.

“(Y/L/N)? Can I help you?”

“I’m really sorry to do this, but could I borrow your notes from Potions yesterday? I zoned out and I think I missed an important part of the class.”

“Why can’t you ask your friends? I’m sure Granger has her own notes.”

“Please, Draco. We both know that yours are the best in the class.”

He smirks at her answer, but nevertheless, he turns to his bag and starts looking for the notes.

As he’s distracted, she takes her chance. Unscrewing the top to the love potion and pouring it into his pumpkin juice. She whispers an apology as she hides the empty bottle in the pocket of her robes.

Draco turns back to her, the aforementioned notes in his hand. He stands as he hands them to her.

“(Y/L/N)?”

“Draco?”

“Why are your friends watching us like that?”

She turns to the Gryffindor table to see Harry, Ron and Hermione watching her and Draco with wide eyes and open mouths. They’re sat there in disbelief that she actually carried out the dare; the pit of guilt in her stomach grows deeper.

She takes the notes from him, “I’m not sure. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor talking amicably is bound to get some people talking though,” She teases slightly, “Thank you for your notes, Draco. Really.”

He takes a drink of his pumpkin juice before he replies, “It’s fine. Just bring them back to me before our next lesson with Snape.”

She nods as she turns away. The guilt pooling in her stomach as she heads back to the Gryffindor table so she can grab her bag and head to her first lesson.

She was screwed.

----

An arm being wrapped around her shoulders set off the first alarms in her head. Looking up to the owner of said arm, she was only slightly surprised to see Draco.

“Can I help you, Draco?”

“I wanted to walk you to class.”

“We don’t have the same class first period.”

He shrugs, “And? I’m still going to walk you to class.”

It isn’t a long walk to her first class. She spies Harry, Ron and Hermione waiting outside the classroom waiting for her.

She pauses, turning to the boy whose arm is wrapped around her shoulders, “Thank you for walking me to class, Draco. You didn’t have to.”

He looks down at her, smiling softly, “I didn’t have to. I wanted to. Join me for lunch?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you for lunch.”

“Enjoy your lesson.” Draco murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her cheek before leaving for his class.

She looks towards Hermione in shock; (Y/N)’s hand rising to touch the place where Draco’s lips had been but a moment ago.

Hermione looks just as shocked as she does but understanding soon sweeps over the brunette’s face.

“What? What is it?”

“The love potion you gave Draco has made Draco fall in love with you, (Y/N).”

------

The morning goes by swiftly, and (Y/N) soon finds that the lunch hour is soon upon her. Leaving the classroom, she is surprised to see Draco waiting for her. His presence doesn’t fail to bring attention to the pair; her classmates all have their eyes on her as she walks up to the blonde-haired boy.

“Ready for lunch?” She asks, giving him an out in case the love potion has worn off early.

His arms sneaks around her waist and he pulls her in for a long hug; one that she happily returns. “I missed you,” he whispers.

“You did?” She murmurs into his shoulder.

“Yeah, I missed you a whole lot. Come on, let’s go to lunch.” He says, pulling away from the embrace but keeping a tight hold on her hand.

Truthfully, she was happy to let Draco hold her hand all day long. She had never shied away from her feelings for the Slytherin Prince but kept them to herself because it wasn’t anyone else’s business.

On their entrance to the Great Hall, she felt as if all eyes were on her or rather their entwined hands.

Draco leads her to the Slytherin table, purposely choosing a spot away from his friends. She sits down next to him where he lets go of her hand, but quickly places it on her knee; using his only free hand to put food on his plate.

The feeling of his hand on her knee almost has her confessing to her crimes then and there. She likes it too much.

They eat in relative silence; small bits of conversation is the only silence. Draco asks her about her morning; whether she was enjoying her classes, how her exam revision was going. He did this all the while looking at her as if she was the only girl in the world for him. The intensity of his gaze had her ducking her head, pushing her food around on her plate.

“You make me really happy.” He states.

“I do?”

“Yes, you make me very happy, (Y/N).” That’s all he says as he returns to his lunch.

(Y/N) pushes her plate away, telling Draco she’s full when he looks at her in concern. She doesn’t elaborate that she’s becoming consumed with the guilt from this morning, but also becoming consumed by her feelings for him.

------

It wasn’t real. The effects of the love potion on Draco wasn’t real; his love for her was not real. He would never have feelings for her; the chances of any feelings for her would be most certainly lessened the minute the love potion wears off from him.

As the day continues, she has to remind herself of this too many times to count.

------

It was a long day.

She takes it upon herself to take Draco to the Slytherin common room where the final effects of the love potion can wear off in peace. On the way to the common room, Draco had wrapped an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss to the top of her head as if they were in a relationship and the affection was not the result of the love potion currently running through his system.

She felt her heart start to break at this. Her feelings for Draco has so far gone unnoticed by Harry, Ron and Hermione. As well as by Draco himself. She would not let herself break from this; she would suffer the consequences of the love potion in private – where she could be alone with her guilt and her thoughts.

Entering the Slytherin common room, she and Draco take a seat on the couch in front of the roaring fire. He toes off his shoes, instantly making himself at home. She perches on the edge of the couch; feeling as if she has just infiltrated enemy territory.

“(Y/N)? I need to tell you a secret.”

“I think you’ve done enough of that today, Draco. .”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, “I don’t understand what you’ve just said, but here it is.”

Draco becomes silent, as if dragging out the suspense for the confession.

“Draco! Just tell me.”

His shoulders start to shake, and she starts to worry thinking he’s started to cry. It doesn’t take her long to realise that Draco is actually laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s my secret. Are you ready?”

She nods, poised for whatever he has to say.

“I faked the effects of the love potion.”

“You knew I put a love potion in your drink!? Why didn’t you say anything?” She shouts, grabbing a cushion to throw at him.

He catches the cushion easily. “I wanted to see how long it would take you to crack. Turns out the whole day.”

“How? I saw you take a drink!”

Draco grins, “Sleight of hand. After I saw you put the potion in my drink, I distracted you long enough to switch the drinks.

Her face falls into her hands, “Oh my god. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

Draco pulls her hands away from her face, “It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t! I am so glad you didn’t drink the potion; I’ve felt awful about it all day. I am so so sorry, Draco. Nobody deserves that! Please forgive me.”

He squeezes her hands, “You’re forgiven. It’s not like I haven’t taken my revenge by embarrassing you all day.”

She pulls her hands away from his, running them through her hair. “You faked the love potion? Why?”

“A number of reasons.”

“And they are?” She prompts.

“Well, for starters, I knew that if it didn’t work, you’d never hear the end of it from your friends.”

She nods; this much was true. They would never let her live it down. “Okay, what about the rest?”

He mumbles something so quietly that she has to strain her ears to catch any part of what he says.

“Draco, I didn’t hear you.”

A blush stains his cheeks and he doesn’t look you in the eye as he says, “I wanted to spend time with you.”

“You what?”

“I wanted to spend time with you.” He states.

Her eyes widen as she looks at him incredulously, “Why? Why did want to spend time with me?”

The blush is back in his cheeks as whispers, “I like you.”

If her eyebrows could go any higher then they would be in her hair. Draco doesn’t miss this.

“What? Would it be so bad if I did?”

“Of course not, Draco. I just don’t understand.”

“I know. I’ve been awful to you in the past, and you can’t know how sorry I am. But I do, I like you. I faked the effects of the love potion so I could be near you.”

“Oh, Draco.”

“Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not pitying you. Do you want to know why I was dared to put the love potion in your drink?”

“An explanation would be nice.”

“I had to choose in a game of truth or dare. I chose dare because if I chose truth, Harry, Ron and Hermione would pressure me to confess who I have a crush on and I wasn’t ready to say anything.”

Draco is quiet for a minute, letting her words sink in. She lets her gaze shift from Draco’s face to watching the fire currently warming the Slytherin common room.

“Who do you have a crush on?” Draco eventually asks.

She continues to watch the fire; not knowing what to say but also scared to look him in the eyes and confess. Her heartbeat races; her pulse sounds in her ears.

“Who do you have a crush on, (Y/N)?” Draco repeats.

She fiddles with her fingers, whispering, “I don’t know what to say…”

“You almost drugged me today. I think the least you owe me is the name of your crush.”

She opens her mouth; an apology ready on her lips, but when she sees the smile on his face, she realises that he’s trying to make a joke. He’s trying to make light of the situation.

“Draco! I’ve told you how sorry I am.”

“I know. And I’ve accepted your apology.”

She relaxes slightly, smiling at the blonde-haired boy sat next to her. The boy smiles back at her, poking her leg with a socked foot.

“Come on, tell me who you have a crush on. It has to be someone really important for you to choose a dare over a truth.”

She sighs, “I have a crush on you, Draco.”

His smile disappears, “I told you to not pity me.”

“I’m not pitying you, Draco. Not one time through this conversation have I pitied you.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious when I confessed my feelings for you.”

“You really like me?”

A smile breaks out across her face, “I really do.”

“I don’t know if it’s been established but I have a crush on you too.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“I would only fake the effects of love potion for one person, and that person is you.”

She places a hand on her chest, smiling widely, “I’m honoured, Draco.”

He laughs quietly, grabbing her hand from her chest and bringing it up to his lips.

“I’d rather you kiss me properly, Draco.”

He raises a single eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“It is.”

He shifts on the couch, tugging on the hand he’s still holding to pull her closer to him, to press her against him. His hand reaches up to caress her cheek; his nose brushes against hers. She surges forward and presses her lips to his; Draco is shocked only for a moment before he kisses her back.

When they start to run out of air, they pull away.

“I’m glad you accepted the dare.” Draco whispers, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

She grins, kissing his quickly before whispering back, “So am I.”

[ejlovespie]

Knocking On Heaven’s Door

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: A car accident leaves the reader in a life or death situation...This was a reader’s request that was inspired by the classic song, “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” 

Pairing:  Dean x reader

Word Count: 2232

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Near Death Experience/Somewhat Graphic Descriptions of Blood/Fluff 

Reader’s Request: Dean, Sam and the reader get into an accident while driving the impala. Dean and Sam get mildly injured but when dean turns around he finds the reader severely injured since the impact was from her side in the backseat and there is a huge chunk of glass stuck in her side and there is a lot of blood also she's pinned by the door so he has trouble getting her out. I would looove to see a little bit of dean pov. And can u pleaaase make it detailed as much as u can.

A/N: Thank you for the request anon; I hope you like it! This one was really long in the beginning events so I hope the ending doesn’t feel too rushed. Also, I apologize if any of the medical details are incorrect. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :) 

You sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, a rare occurrence since you usually got booted to the back. Sam was stretched out and snoring softly in the backseat as Dean drove, focusing on the road ahead. It was raining and you stared out the side window, counting the raindrops as they slid across the glass, out of view. An old rock ballad, something slow and sad played quietly over the speakers. Your eyes drooped as the music combined with the pitter patter of rain was soothing you into sleep. 

Mama put my guns in the ground

I can't shoot them anymore

You let your eyes close and smiled to yourself when you heard Dean, quietly singing along to the song. His low voice was deep and masculine and you were surprised by the amount of control he held when singing the words. 

That cold black cloud is comin' around

And I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door

Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door

Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door

Drifting to sleep, you thought about how you wished you could hear Dean sing more often.  

Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door

Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door

-

You were shocked awake in your seat when a blaring horn sounded. It was so loud. Whipping your head to the right, bright lights blinded your vision and you screamed as the impala was hit by a large truck and forced off the road. Everything happened so fast. One moment all you could hear was the deafening sounds of glass shattering, tires squealing, and metal tearing then, everything was silent but the sound of rain.

Dazed and disoriented, you felt blood dripping from your forehead down your cheeks. Your hand went to the cut above your brow and you wiped at it, trying to keep blood from dripping into your eyes. You gasped as the movement caused a sharp pain in your side. Looking down your body, you were horrified to find a large shard of glass was lodged in the right side of your abdomen. Although it was dark, you could see your white shirt and jeans were stained in blood and littered with shards of glass. Trying to remain calm and keep your breathing normal, you called out to Sam and Dean. When neither responded, panic gripped your heart and you twisted your neck to find them in the dark. To your left, Dean looked okay at first glance but he was still knocked out cold. You tried to twist further to see Sam but cried out loudly when a piercing pain kept you from moving in your seat. Looking back down, you noticed more blood oozing out of your wound. Keeping your upper body still, you only turned your head as you reached out with your left hand to feel for Dean. He didn’t stir when you squeezed his bicep or his shoulder. 

Becoming more panicked and a bit frustrated, you felt Dean’s face and lightly patted his cheek trying to wake him. You sighed in relief when you felt his head turn towards and you heard his slurred murmuring. Afraid he would lose consciousness again you yelled, “Dean wake up!” Your eyes had adjusted to the dark and you saw Dean’s eyes fly open and fill with panic as he realized what had happened. He whipped around and reached out for Sam who, thankfully, grunted when Dean shook him. Finally, you breathed a sigh of relief knowing the boys were safe but cried out again when the action moved the glass impaling you. Dean whipped back around to face you, to ask what was wrong, when he saw the problem. His face went completely white and his eyes grew wide with fear as he stared at you. You could hear the squeaking of leather as Sam slowly sat up in the back seat. In an alarmed voice, Dean asked, “What’s wrong Y/N?” 

“There’s a piece of glass stuck in my side. You can’t see it because it’s on my right...It hurts to move Dean.” Your voice had started off controlled but it broke at the end. You were scared.

Dean gulped and gritted his teeth before his hands came up to cup your face. They were a little cold but you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. In a gentle but firm voice he said, “You’re going to be okay sweetheart. Just sit tight.” You kept your eyes closed for a moment, not wanting him to see your fear. In the back, Sam cursed as both Winchesters threw their doors open. You heard Dean yelling at Sam to get a flashlight as you looked back to your right. Dean’s face appeared at the window. He had a flashlight in his hand and was moving the beam around as he assessed the situation. Pulling on the door handle a few times did nothing and he cursed before looking at you again.

“Your door got the worst damage Y/N.” He looked slightly to his right before continuing. “It looks like this pickup hit your door before jackknifing to the side. The passenger door is bent to hell. I don’t think I can open it without more tools.” Dean hollered at Sam to check the truck for tools before looking back at you. “It’s going to be fine. We’re gonna get you out of here.” Sam came to the window, shaking his head. The look in his eyes made you think the driver didn't make it and fear gripped you again. Oh God. you thought to yourself. Please don’t let me die like this. You closed your eyes as a tear slipped down your cheek. As Sam stepped away to call 911, Dean was there, reaching through the missing window. Being careful to not cut himself on the left over glass, he wiped your tear away before looking more closely at your wound. You looked down too and realized it had started to bleed more freely, turning your white shirt crimson. There was too much blood. As soon as you acknowledged this, you felt yourself getting light headed. 

Dean cursed violently before turning away from you to yell, “Sam, how long on the ambulance?!”  

Sam rushed over and said, “We’re in the middle of nowhere Dean. They said it could be 20 to 30 minutes.” Dean growled. “We can’t wait that long. She’s bleeding too much. Grab the first aid kit from the trunk and go check the pickup for anything useful.” He tried yanking on the door from the outside a few more times before he reached back through the window to try the inside handle. The door wouldn’t budge. “Okay. Y/N. Look at me sweetheart. I need to get you out but the door is stuck. I am going to pull you out through the driver’s side.” You whimpered, knowing the pain that was coming. You looked to your left as Dean crawled in through the other door. He carefully reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt before grabbing something from Sam. It was a bottle of whiskey and he was unscrewing the cap. Dean placed the neck of the bottle against your lips before tilting it for you to drink. You took a few pulls before he took it away and he screwed the cap back on. He praised you and placed a hand on your cheek before he leaned over you to look at your wound more closely with the flashlight. 

After a moment, Dean leaned back and said, “Okay Y/N. I can’t try to pull you out of the car with that thing in you. I am going to pull it out and you’re going to put pressure on it while I get you out alright?” You nodded and the motion made you lightheaded. You weren’t sure how much help you were going to be soon. Sam leaned into the car and said he was ready with the first aid kit. Dean pulled off his flannel and balled it up before giving it to you. “Use this to put as much pressure on your side as you can. Are you ready?” You weren’t but you whispered a “yes.” Faster than you could blink, Dean had pulled the glass from your side and threw it out the open window. You screamed at the pain and Dean yelled at you to put pressure on as he gently put his arms around you and pulled you from the car. Your head swam and your vision started to go black in the corners of your eyes as you were carried for a few seconds before Dean placed you on the wet ground. You noticed it had stopped raining as something was put behind your head before. 

Your heart was beating too fast and suddenly you felt so cold that your teeth started to shatter. Your brain registered the sound of Sam and Dean’s voices yelling but they sounded too far away. You couldn't make out the words but maybe you were hearing your name? You felt your body going into shock and tears silently ran down your face. You were going to die. You saw flashes of Dean’s fear filled eyes in your vision but you were having trouble focusing on them. Suddenly with perfect clarity, you remembered the lyrics to the song Dean was singing earlier. It was fitting for this moment and you found some peace as you remembered it.

That cold black cloud is comin' around

And I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door

You certainly felt like you were knocking on heaven’s door and you accepted your fate as your eyes closed and everything went black. 

-

Dean’s POV

Dean panicked when all of the color drained from Y/N’s face and she started to shiver as her body went into shock. Icy fear turned Dean’s blood cold when her eyes closed and she didn’t respond to his touch or voice. Tears streamed down his face as he caressed her cheeks and begged her to hold on, to stay with him. Sam had grimly stitched the wound to stop the bleeding but what if they were too late? Leaning over, Dean placed his ear on Y/N’s heart and listened to the slow beat. It was too slow but it was there. In the distance, the faint wailing of the ambulance's siren could finally be made out. Dean moved his ear off of Y/N’s chest and brought his lips to her face. His hands reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face as he kissed her softly. “Be strong baby. You have to hold on for me. I...I don’t know how to live without you.” 

When the ambulance finally pulled up, the medics loaded Y/N in before letting Dean climb up to ride along to the hospital. He held her hand when he was allowed to and stayed by her side until they reached the hospital and she was rushed to the ER. Hours passed sitting in the waiting room and Dean jumped when his phone rang. Sam had stayed behind to wait for the cops and a tow truck and called with an update. Dean heard the hesitation in his brother’s voice when Sam asked, “How is she doing?” With a deep sigh, he responded that she was still in surgery and he didn’t know anything yet. “I will call you when I hear more.”

It was several more hours before a tired looking doctor came out and asked for Y/N’s family. Dean launched out of his seat as the doc explained that her surgery went well. She explained that the glass shard had pierced some of Y/N’s organs, causing her to lose a lot of blood, but they had been able to fix the damage before it was too late. Relief washed over Dean as the doctor spoke and he asked if he could see her. Seeing the desperation in his eyes, the doctor hesitated before saying yes but that she needed to rest. “It may be awhile before she wakes up.” She warned. It was almost two full days before Y/N woke but Dean was there. He held her hand and kissed her fingers as she opened her beautiful eyes. His heart swelled and he tried not to cry when Y/N looked at him.  

“There she is. Hi sweetheart.”  When she smiled at him it felt like his heart would burst. Even in a hospital bed, she was beautiful. He brought her hand to his mouth again, kissing her until she giggled and said that his stubble was scratching her skin. They smiled at each other for a moment before Y/N started asking questions. What happened? Where’s Sam? Was he okay? When could they go home? Etcetera. She fussed over him, asking if he or Sam had been hurt and her worry for them when she was the one in the hospital bed made him feel...well it made him feel something he had never felt before. He didn’t know what he would he have done if he had lost this woman.  

They talked for a while and Dean filled her in before Y/N’s face became more serious. Looking up at him she said, “Thank you. You and Sam saved my life…” She paused, looking slightly embarrassed before she asked, “Do you mind singing to me? Your voice is...well it’s amazing and it relaxes me. I would love to hear it again but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The request took Dean aback but he was flattered and she could have asked him for anything in this moment and he would have moved mountains to make it happen. “Of course baby. Do you have any requests?” She contemplated for a moment, looking thoughtful before she answered him by saying, “How about a Guns N’ Roses song?” 

Dean Tags: 

@akshi8278 @wellfuckmyexistence @beabutterfly987

[acabecca]

“Say that you wanna be with me too.” JAS AND BUCKY

I have no idea what this is I’m sorry. I wanted to make it longer and set it during THAT episode of fatws but it didn’t make sense to me to do it, even as an au because apparently I am very fussy when it comes to Jas and Bucky 🙄

(also the picture is not what happens in the prompt i just like is lol)

(featuring a surprise cameo by mr steven rogers because my mind cant process that he might possibly be and is most probably the D word) this prompt is unnecessarily long i apologise

*

Pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head, Jas kept hold of the brightly wrapped present and nudged the car door closed with her hip. She heard more than saw the kids playing somewhere over beside the cabin, and she made her way over to place the box in her hands on the table that was already crammed full of gifts.

Pepper had clearly gone all out and so had everyone else, trying to overcompensate for Tony not being around. It was Morgan’s first birthday without him, and Pepper had opted to invite everyone around instead of the two of them spending it alone, trying to distract her daughter with gifts and friends and games so she didn’t dwell too much on the fact that her father would never be at another one of her birthday parties.

“It’s about time you got here.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m terrible at gift wrapping so I stopped by my aunt’s place so she could make it look pretty for me,” Jas patted the top of the gift and sent Sam a grateful smile as she took the bottle of water he handed to her.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, peering at the gift tag. “What’d we get her?”

Jas blinked. “We?”

“Me, you, and Bucky.”

“I’m sorry, was this supposed to be from all of us?” Jas’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who hauled my ass all over New York looking for the perfect present for baby Stark, and I don’t recall you or Bucky giving me any money for it.”

Sam groaned loudly. “Come on, Jas. I’ve been busy. I’ve been on a mission.”

“Yes, I know,” Jas nodded her head. “I was with you. I still made time to go shopping for a six year old’s birthday party. You’re terrible! Bucky didn’t get her anything, either?”

“It’s Bucky,” Sam shrugged his shoulders as though that was enough of an explanation and Jas rolled her eyes, lifting her hand to wave at Pepper, who wiggled her fingers in return before rushing back inside the cabin.

“Jasmine!”

Jas turned at the sound of her voice, grinning when she saw Morgan running towards her and crouching down just in time to catch the little girl as she flung herself forwards. “Hey birthday girl! Are you having a good day? Your mom’s done a lot, huh?”

“There are so many cupcakes,” Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Too many to even count! I tried. Did you bring me a present?” she asked curiously.

“I did!” Jas laughed, turning around just in time to see Sam inconspicuously adding his own name to the bottom of the gift tag. “It’s from Sam, too, and Bucky. But you’re not allowed to open it until your mom says so, okay? I think we’re doing gifts later.”

“I know,” Morgan sighed. “She let me open one, though! Well…” she paused thoughtfully. “Clint snuck it to me and told me to open it before anyone saw. He got me a bow and arrow set and Lila is going to teach me how to use it, and Bruce got me a chemistry set so I can learn how to help him in his lab and stuff like my daddy did, and- did you know Bucky can pick me and Nate up with only one arm?”

“He can, huh?” Jas raised her eyebrows. “That’s awesome! Sounds like you’re having a great day, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” she paused again, biting down on her lip. “I’m going to go back to play with Nate, now. Bye Jasmine, bye Sam! Thank you for coming!” she called, sending a wave over her shoulder as she took off running towards the other kids.

“Good thing she got her manners from her mom,” Sam snorted.

“Hmm,” Jas hummed, a soft smile on her face. “Don’t think I didn’t see you adding your name on the gift tag. You add Bucky’s, too? You better had or he’ll feel like shit for not getting her anything. Where is he, by the way?”

“Sitting down by the kids with Steve.”

Jas almost choked on the sip of water she’d just taken and Sam slapped her hard on the back. “Steve?” she squealed, coughing and wiping at her mouth. “Steve, Steve? Steve Rogers, Steve?”

“You know another Steve who’d be here?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

“Steve is here and you give me a poxy bottle of water? Dammit, Sam! I need something stronger,” she groaned softly, screwing the lid back on to her water and, spotting the cooler sitting on the grass by the corner of the cabin, she made her way over to it and reached for a beer at the exact same time someone else did. Looking up as her hand connected with someone else’s, she mer a pair of familiar blue eyes and couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Hey, Buck! I hear you’ve been keeping Morgan and Nate entertained with your impressive strength,” she raised an eyebrow, unscrewing the cap off her beer and taking a long sip. “Have you been here long?” she asked, but Bucky didn’t reply.

Instead, he grabbed two bottles out of the cooler and straightened up, looking between Jas and Sam before sending her a tight smile and turning to walk back in the direction he’d come from, disappearing around the side of the cabin. Jas turned to Sam in bewilderment.

“What was that about?” she asked, but Sam avoided her gaze as he lifted his bottle to his lips. “Sam? He’s been ignoring me for days. What’s wrong with him, did I do something? I know you know something.”

Sighing, Sam ran a hand over his face. “Look, I don’t wanna get involved in whatever it is the two of you have got going on-”

“What?” Jas interrupted. “There’s nothing going on. What are you talking about?”

“Awfully quick on the defence there, James,” Sam smirked. “...I told him I wouldn’t say anything, and I’m not going to, but do you really not know what you did?” he asked, rolling his eyes when Jas shook her head. “Think back a bit. Day before we flew home, you were talking to your auntie. About Steve. About how they could never really replace Captain America, because he was irreplaceable.”

“Yeah…?” Jas trailer off in confusion. “But, I’m right. They can’t? They tried, and look how well it worked out. They’ll never find anyone like Steve.”

“They’ll never find anyone like Steve, or you’ll never find anyone like Steve?” Sam questioned, smirking when Jas’ face paled slightly.

“That- that’s what he- is that what Bucky thinks I meant?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“And- did you tell Bucky that isn’t what I meant?”

“I tried,” Sam shrugged. “S’not me he needs to hear it from. I’m not the one he’s got a thing for.”

“Shut up, he does not have a thing for me,” Jas grumbled, shoving at Sam’s face and feeling her cheeks heat up as he cackled beside her. “Sam!”

“What? You’re both too good at avoiding what’s been happening between you for months now and I, for one, am sick of it,” Sam pointed at himself. “I’m the one who has to sit in planes and in cramped apartments and shit with the pair of you and honestly? I’m done. I’m tired of it. We’re at a kids birthday party and the sexual tension between the pair of you is so unhealthy-”

“Sam!” Jas repeated, shoving at him again. “We don’t- that is not- there is none of that tension between us.”

Sam scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t want Barnes to bend you over and-”

“SAM!” Jas shrieked, darting forwards and covering his mouth with her hand, her whole face turning red when she saw the looks Clint, Pepper, and Laura were throwing her. “Jesus, I- okay. Alright. So what if I do? He’s never made a move, has he? So this whole thing is probably just all in your head.”

“If you’re waiting for him to make the first move then you’re gonna be waiting a hell of a long time, baby. He thinks you’re still hung up on Cap and he’s also a 106 year old emotionally constipated ex-assassin. You’re gonna have to be the one who moves in first, or it’s never gonna happen,” Sam told her gently, reaching forwards and taking her drink out of her hand. “You can start by telling him he got it wrong when you said Steve was irreplaceable. Maybe drop in a little ‘Sam was right and you should listen to him more’, maybe make my life a little easier in future.”

Jas paused, chewing on her bottom lip as nerves filled her stomach. This was not how she had envisioned today going. She’d been expecting a lot of laughs, maybe some tears because she hadn’t been out here since Tony’s funeral, good food and lots of drinks, and now she was seriously contemplating dragging Bucky - her best friend - away from everyone so she could apologise for a misunderstanding that had left him brooding for the last five days. She moaned, pulling her sunglasses off her head and running a hand through her hair.

“I can’t just go talk to him,” she whispered. “He’s… He‘s with Steve. I haven’t seen Steve since… everything. It’s rude if I just go and drag Bucky away from an old man-”

“Either you drag him away or I do. I’ll come with you, I’ll keep Steve occupied and you go talk to Bucky. I am literally being your wingman.”

“Living up to your name.”

“Shut the hell up and get your annoying ass over to your equally annoying boyfriend,” Sam snorted, turning her round and pushing her towards where he knew Bucky and Steve were sitting together. Jas let out a squeak and reached behind her to swat his hands away, laughed as she turned the corner and saw Bucky sat beside Steve on a bench in the shade, watching Morgan run around with some of her friends.

Steve spotted her first and he sent a small, unsure wave. Jas smiled softly in reply and tucked her hair behind her ears, her sunglasses perched atop her head again as she came to a stop in front of them.

“Uhm, hi. Bucky, can I talk to you for a second?”

He looked up, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure.”

“Uh,” Jas glanced at Steve. “In private, maybe?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m just in the middle of talking to Steve.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, Buck,” Steve looked between the two of them, a somewhat knowing look on his face. “You should go with Jas.”

“But-”

“I’ll sit with Gramps, don’t worry about it man,” Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder, not-so-subtly nudging Bucky out of his seat and forcing him to stand up. Huffing, Bucky placed his beer down on the grass and gestured towards the cabin. Jas nodded her head and followed after him, turning to shoot a glare in Sam’s direction when he called a quick “good luck!” after them.

Following Bucky inside, Jas glanced around the cabin, her eyes lingering on the picture above the fireplace, a selfie that Tony has clearly taken of himself, Pepper, and Morgan. Clearing her throat, Jas blinked rapidly as she tried to keep any tears from falling and ignored the way Bucky was watching her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you know, it’s just…” she waved a hand towards the picture and Bucky followed her gaze, frowning as he nodded his head.

“We don’t have to stay in here,” he told her. “We can- come on,” he pointed towards the kitchen and Jas trailed after him, coming to a stop by the breakfast bar as Bucky against the worktop opposite her, his arms crossed over his chest. “So uh, you wanna talk?”

“Yeah, I- listen, I didn’t- what I said, about Steve being irreplaceable?” Jas began meekly, and Bucky screwed his eyes shut as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I’m gonna kill Wilson’ under his breath. “I think you took it the wrong way.”

“Jasmine, it’s- I- it doesn’t matter-”

“No it does!” she insisted quickly. “It does matter, Buck, because I didn’t mean it the way you think I mean it, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t- I didn’t mean that you’re not…” she paused, trailing off nervously. “You know you’re important to me, right? And I guess I don’t want you to think that there isn’t room in you for life because of my past with Steve, because that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky’s whole face was screwed up, his expression something Jas couldn’t decipher and she almost groaned when she realised he was obviously annoyed by something she had just said.

“You think I want to be a replacement?” Bucky asked carefully. “You think I want to take Steve’s place in your life?”

“No! I mean, I… I don’t know?” Jas replied meekly. “Maybe? I thought you were-”

“I want my own place in your life, Jasmine,” he cut in. “I don’t have any intention of being a replacement for anyone, especially not Steve. I know I could never replace him,” he gestured towards the kitchen window, where they could see Steve and Sam both sat outside of. The two men quickly looked away and Bucky rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose at his friends making it painfully obvious they were listening in. “I see Steve never learned how to be subtle in his old age.”

“Nope,” Jas bit back a smirk and Bucky sighed, grabbing hold of her arm and leading her away from the window. “Look, I thought maybe we - you and I - I thought that maybe there was something happening? That there was something here between us. Am I wrong?” he asked cautiously. “Tell me if I’m wrong and I’ll stop. I can just be your friend, I don’t need or expect anything else from you, not even your friendship if that’s something you don’t want-”

“…Bucky-”

“I want to be with you, Jasmine,” he admitted, his voice low and his cheeks a little bit pink. “I do. I have for a really long time. And if you say that you wanna be with me too, then great! I can take you out on dates, we can get to know each other beyond friendship. But if you don’t? That’s okay, too. Whatever you decide. I just need to know where I stand,” Bucky kept his gaze on her, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest he was sure Jas would be able to hear it. When she didn’t say anything, his stomach sank and he frowned. “Okay, that’s fine, we can forget that I said anything and-”

“No, wait!” Jas gasped, reaching out and grabbing his arm as he began to turn away from her. She tugged him back towards her, standing on her toes and quickly pressing her lips to his. It was a quick kiss, over in a few seconds, and Bucky had barely had time to respond to it before Jas was dropped back down on her toes and clearing her throat awkwardly, her face red. “Sorry, I… I was processing. I’d really like to go on dates with you, Bucky.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Good. That’s… That‘s good. I’d like that.”

“Bucky.”

“Yeah?”

“You gonna kiss me or am I gonna be the one doing all the heavy lifting in this relationship?” Jas raised an eyebrow and Bucky chuckled, slipping an arm around her and pulling her towards him. He leaned in closer to her, before freezing and looking at her with a furrowed brow. “What is it, Barnes? Did you change your mind already?”

“You don’t still have feelings for Steve, do you?”

“No!” Jas pulled a face. “Bucky. He’s old. Like really old.”

“So am I!”

“Yeah but he looks old.”

“Wow, never had you down for the shallow type, Jasmine.”

She groaned. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay,” Bucky hummed, finally closing the gap between them and doing as she asked.

Outside, Sam beamed as he peered through the window before he held his hand out to Steve, who sighed and begrudgingly shoved $20 into his waiting palm.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you talking to her, Sam,” Steve grumbled. “You hustled an old man.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled widely, stuffing the money into the pocket of his jeans. “I did.”

taglist: @sgtbuckyybarnes @mer-writes @foxesandmagic @ohmansebastianstan @chlobenet @jewelswrites-ish @lukespatterson @ocappreciationtag @marveloc-hq (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 12

Wordcount: 3, 719 Rating: M for strong language and mature themes Warning: Implications of a panic attack and other sensitive/shocking content ahead. "See? I don't even have any goddamn organs! And I'm still alive!" "But hey, I get it. Maybe this isn't even my body. If it was, I wouldn't be alive. Maybe I'm a clone or something. A robot clone. Do you think they still kept my old body as a souvenir?" Chapter synopsis: Alfred is dying from something unknown, and the weaker his body gets, the faster his sanity wanes. You can't do anything but ease his pain as he slowly deteriorates. Fortunately, a deus ex machina arrives to save the day. The reader is referred to as she/her

Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): VIRUS, Devil’s At Your Door, Glassy sky, Within. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:

VIRUS

12 - Like tears in rain

When Alfred left to do his business, you traced a finger over your leg and continued to look towards the bathroom. He was going to reappear any second now. That was what you told yourself as you waited, impatiently, but it never happened. Instead, you heard a loud slam and your heart jumped out of your chest.

It was the sound of glass. 

“... Alfred?” You called out, tone uncertain. Sliding yourself off the bed a few moments later, you walked to the door with a fearful kind of urgency. Without wasting another second, you knocked a few times. “Are you okay in there? I heard something. What happened?” He didn’t answer. There was only shuffling of feet--the rough scraping of the sole of a sandal against the tiled floor. 

It was almost as if he was struggling to stand. 

“Alfred, open the door!” You rose your voice in a distressed shout. Pounding your fists against the door, your pleads fell on deaf ears as he never made an effort to respond.

That alarmed you beyond compare and you resorted to thrusting your elbows against the cold and hard metal surface. “Alfred—” Your voice broke as his name fell from your lips. Bile never rose this quickly in your throat. 

When the door did open, you stared wide-eyed at the man through a flurry of tears. He was so confused, disoriented even, but he was safe and sound.

But when he saw the way you looked at him, crying, his face twisted with regret. “Fuck, (F/N)!” He breathed, catching you in his arms when you launched yourself at him. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you, but I’m okay—I promise. See? Now please don’t cry anymore.” Pulling away to offer a smile of reassurance, it faltered when you shook your head profusely with bitter despondency. 

“I’m not stupid. I know what I heard.” A dark glare only lasted so long when your expression quickly morphed into despair. “Please just tell me what’s wrong.” Reaching out to grip onto the sleeves of his shirt, you clung onto him desperately, almost as if he’d disappear if you didn’t. Little did you know, it wasn’t far from the truth. 

As if Alfred already knew this, he hung his head with a tired grin. 

“To be honest, I don’t know any more about this than you do.” He shook his head, defeated. “My best guess is that I’m having particularly shitty side effects with this... Immortality thing. But that’s it. I can’t die. So I’ll be okay.” 

He didn’t pay much attention to the signs he’d been seeing for the past few days. At first, he only experienced a little bit of lagging in his interface, like whenever he’d use his trusty in-built Google maps. This minor issue escalated into occasional forgetfulness, and even then, he brushed it off. But now, this mutated into something alarming.

Finding yourself in his arms again, you squeezed him in a tight embrace and screwed your eyes shut.

“That means this won’t be forever... Right?"

You wanted to believe it with every fiber of your being. But fear returned like an old friend, ravaging your being until it left nothing but paranoia in your consciousness. "I still think there’s something wrong with you..." Shaking your head as you choked out your words, he squeezed you right back.

"This won’t happen again, I’m sure of it. So don’t be so worried, okay?" Pulling away to soften his gaze on your teary one, he wiped away any moisture with a swipe of his thumb. Then, he sighed, but a small smile appeared right after. “I’ll be fine. Otherwise, who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

“Don’t say that.” You deadpanned.

The truth to his words was haunting, and you couldn’t deny it. That was precisely why you hated hearing it.

“Do you care about me that much now, (F/N)?” The other grinned, his cheeks pink with content.

“Don’t ask that as if you don’t already know the answer.”

Alfred closed his eyes with a look of satisfaction. To hear you snap at him like this only pointed to one reason, and one reason only.

He'd totally grown on you. Maybe more so the other way around, but this was how things have always been. So he wasn't surprised when he was the first to feel something beyond a platonic friendship. Ironically, he was made of more metal than flesh and blood like you. But did that even mean anything anymore?

“Just wanted to hear you say it. But that’s good enough for me.” He hummed, watching a blush spread over your cheeks he himself was responsible for.

You hit his shoulder. "... Take this a little more seriously, would you?"

The blonde laughed. "I am! I was just being honest."

Neither of you noticed that you both had taken the leisure to sit on the ground. But given the circumstances, how could you possibly focus on something else? The same could be said for Alfred as he continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression.

Even then, he was pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

"You say that and yet I really can't tell what you're thinking."

"... And what if I didn't want you to?"

Whatever it was that was between you both, it couldn't be ignored. You weren't on the same page as him, but that didn't mean you wouldn't do everything in your power to save him.

He was carefree about this, but you weren't taking your chances.

Not that you could do anything to help him as his symptoms spiraled out of control. What he said would only be a one-time thing became a daily ritual. His episodes were longer. More violent. If he wasn't freezing up in the middle of the street, he was having seizures left and right until he fried his own brain.

Devil's At Your Door

You would drag his heavy body to an alleyway to wait it out. This was one of those times, but the task proved more difficult during a thunderstorm, and when heavy was more of an understatement. Not only was he made mostly out of steel, but he was well over six feet to boot, so all it took was one small puddle to slip and drop him--right onto the concrete with a thump.

In the few seconds he laid flat on the ground, he looked dead.

But a few seconds was more than enough for tears to form. They streamed endlessly down your face as you watched his, motionless and peaceful as it lay half-submerged in a murky well of water. As dark as it was, it still reflected the bright neon of the city. But the lights were anything but beautiful.

"... Sorry for dropping you." You murmured, reaching up to rub your eyes. He remained quiet. A part of you wished he said something, maybe a soft laugh going, don't worry about it. But he never did.

Bending down to sit beside him, you pulled Alfred onto your body and rested his head on your shoulder. It wasn't the freezing puddle your legs were submerged in that bothered you. Nor was it the light drizzle of rain on your face, the rumbling of thunder, or your dirty clothes sticking to your skin.

It was the feeling of him twitching in your arms, the restlessness in his uneven breaths. Something inside him was killing him. And all you could do was ease his pain while he wasted away.

Sticking your hand into his pocket, you pulled out a metal pin before lifting his tank top. Then, you inserted it into a tiny hole in his chest. You felt a pop, and a plate opened up. At least he wasn't drenched on the inside. But the water was a bad sign nevertheless, especially when he wasn't filtering it out like he normally did.

With whatever areas of your clothes that were still dry, you rubbed the inside of his torso vigorously. Then, you carefully removed detachable parts to wipe them as well. So there you sat, and hoped, unscrewing plates and reattaching them with his trusty screwdriver for ten minutes before he began to stir.

It was easily the longest ten minutes of your life. When he laid there, unable to process a single coherent thought, you had to wonder if this would be the last time. What if he never woke up? What if your father's men found him out here, and did away with him while he was so vulnerable?

The fear for his dwindling life chipped away at your sanity faster than you could deal. But every time he woke up, he put a stopper on your waning senses. A cough was heard and you stopped your movements abruptly. "... Pervert." He cracked his eyes open into thin slits as a tired grin stretched at his lips.

But you couldn't humor his comment as bile rose in your throat.

"I thought you weren't gonna wake up again." Your lips trembled in a frown. Working quickly to put him together, you pulled his top down and leaned down to hug him. "Thank god... We need to get you out of the rain. I know that much."

You helped him up slowly and slung his arm around your shoulder. "Yeah. You know more about this dinosaur than me." He furrowed his brows together and managed a sheepish smile. "If you didn't dry me up, I could've shocked myself to death. That would've been kinda embarrassing."

"Oh, shush. You know I'd never let that happen." Taking slow and steady steps, you both moved out of the alleyway and onto the street. The downpour just got heavier, so you kept your head down and ran to the closest shelter available--the outside of an upgrade store.

And as you stood there, waiting, you heard him say something you would never forget.

"... Even if you didn't, I'm still... Probably gonna die anyway." He laughed dryly. Misery shook his voice, and it manifested in the form of tears that rolled down his face. When you saw them, you almost couldn't tell as droplets of rain had dotted his skin. But he gave you no chance to process the fact he was crying when he continued.

"I'm being killed by something inside. It's not a disease. It's like... A virus." He dug a hand through his hair, and his eyes widened with a manic kind of sadness. "Ha! I'm about to die the most unnatural death. And to think I used to believe I was still a human."

"But you are." You forced out, swallowing thickly as an intense wave of grief washed over you. Then, you shook your head at him. "What I said when I met you was stupid. I didn't know who you were. I was scared. You're scared. I can tell. But don't tell me you're not human after everything you've done."

He wanted to believe you with every damn fiber of his being. He did. He really did. But he just couldn't. Not while his vision glitched so that he could barely see your face. And not while his ears blared with static to render him deaf. "... I'm not what you think I am."

Gritting his teeth so hard, veins popped around his neck and his left eye shattered.

"Alfred, stop!"

What was left of it was a bright blue light in his eye socket.

"Look at me." He breathed shakily. "I'm not even a fucking cyborg. Nothing about me is natural. Can't you see?"

He forced his chest plate open, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop him from pulling it off its hinges. Landing on the wet sidewalk in a clatter, you struggled to keep his hand still as he tore away one part after the other. "I've opened myself up before. I pulled everything out. There's nothing inside but metal and plastic."

But it was true. It became apparent when he pulled himself apart and gutted himself. You stood no chance against his inhumane strength, so he ripped everything out until he was reduced to nothing but a hollow shell.

"See? I don't even have any goddamn organs! And I'm still alive!" Alfred screamed with a face full of tears, but you were just as much of a mess as you sobbed wretchedly. "But hey, I get it. Maybe this isn't even my body. If it was, I wouldn't be alive. Maybe I'm a clone or something. A robot clone. Do you think they still kept my old body as a souvenir?"

He emptied himself as he spoke through crazed laughs, tossing his insides onto the street without a single shred of care.

Glassy Sky

As people walked by, they stopped to stare at the unfolding altercation, but some couldn't bring themselves to give a shit. A few even stepped on his parts on accident as they brushed past. And the sight of them cracking under their feet left you more and more unstable until you stopped crying altogether.

Lowering yourself into a crouch, you covered your ears as an unpleasant concoction of panic and anxiety overwhelmed your senses. As if hot water rushed into your head, a thick mental fog slowed your thoughts to a standstill. In fact, it was so incapacitating, you never struggled when you were picked up from behind.

Even when you were placed into a stranger's car, you never made a move to get out.

Once you calmed down, you were in an entirely different location. Familiar, but different. As you studied your surroundings, you came to recognize it to be the same room you stayed in at Arthur's. And rather than laying down in bed, you were leaning against a warm body. Pressing your face into their chest, you were overwhelmed with the scent of cologne.

Allen's cologne.

Tilting your head back, a pair of striking red eyes stared down at you with the most tender gaze. "Hey. Did you miss me?" He'd said.

For the second time that day, you cried. You cried and cried until there was nothing to cry about anymore. But rather than on a fearful note, it was a happy one. You clung onto him like a lifeboat as he began to rock you gently from side to side, then whisper soft words of comfort into your ear. Allen was alive and well. And the tables had turned for him to save you.

He never thought he'd have the stroke of luck to find you and Alfred. But his sudden urge to go to the bathroom--which came from the heavy downpour--turned out to be the best damn thing that ever happened to him.

"... I gotta take a leak," Allen murmured, earning a slow nod from the man beside him. Climbing out of the vehicle, he jogged across the road. He had been mulling over going all the way to the mall a few blocks down to relieve himself, but he opted for the alleyway right across where their car was parked. When he left, he noticed a small gathering of people down the street.

"...?"

Then, someone screaming bloody murder. He would've turned away, having seen similar scenes unfold like a regular Tuesday, but it was the sobbing that followed he couldn't ignore.

The voice sounded just like yours.

In a heartbeat, he burst into a sprint and pushed his way through the crowd to the center. When he finally got to the middle, he managed to step on a random part--an enhancement of some kind--much to his confusion. Then, he lifted his head for some answers. He paled immediately at what he saw.

Alfred was standing there in all his glory, having disemboweled himself. You were presumably reacting to him doing it.

"... What in the hell?" Sweat amassed around his forehead as he processed the grotesque sight. But seeing you so distraught was more than enough to get him to spring into action. Without a moment's hesitation, he shoved all the curious onlookers away with a scowl. "Fuck off, all of you. Never seen a dude gut himself before?"

Once the group dispersed, he scooped you up with one arm while he used the other to drag Alfred away by his collar.

One frenzied car ride and nap later, you were here in Allen's arms. He had long forsaken the idea of leaving you by yourself. But that wasn't the right way to put it when he never considered it in the first place. "You're okay, (F/N). Everything's gonna be fine." He murmured, digging his hands into your hair to rub your scalp.

It was something he always did to calm you down, and like every other occasion, it worked like a miracle. Feeling his fingers massage your head was therapeutic, and you quickly settled into his chest.

"... I thought you died, you know." Tightening your grip on his white tank, your chest felt heavy as you revisited the memories. "Even if it was for a little while, I knew I went a little crazy afterward."

Allen closed his eyes and rested his chin on you. He usually would have cracked a joke on a topic like this, but he knew better. So there was no sign of mirth in his expression when he responded.

"And that's why I didn't die, sweetheart." Coiling his arms around your neck, he gave you a squeeze. Then, he opened his eyes and narrowed them into a frown. It didn't matter what he did in his life. If he somehow passed before you did, which was more likely than anything, he'd latch himself onto this world with the regret of unfinished business.

"If I died before you, I wouldn't ever forgive myself. I can't leave you alone in this... Shitty world." He pulled away just so he could press his forehead against yours. "It's just you and me. Everyone else is fucking crazy. We're the only sane ones alive."

You couldn't help but crack a smile at that. Allen always had a way with words, even if he was a bit heavy on the colorful vocabulary. In a way, he shared an affinity with Alfred who hated the world just as much as him. But rather than starting revolutions, he preferred to keep it on the down-low and make the most of what he had.

And you had to admit that you preferred the same. "... Maybe you're right. But at least we have each other."

Allen hummed.

"Uhhuh. And maybe I could take Arthur into consideration for the normal people club. He's got a good head on his shoulders."

Speaking of which, how was he going with Alfred, anyhow?

Within

As if he read your mind, he offered to take you to the medical bay. Leading you down the dimly lit halls, he pushed open the door to reveal a violent altercation taking place. Alfred, who had been sleeping off the operation, was up on his feet and causing a ruckus. He held medical scalpels in both hands as if to defend himself.

Darting his wide eyes between the two men, Arthur and another man you didn't recognize, he screamed his lungs out. "Don't come any closer! I'm armed!" Backing himself to the corner, he dropped one of the blades but kept the other firmly in his grip. And that he used to point at whoever that moved.

"Who the hell are you guys? What the fuck did you do to me?!"

What did he say?

Your face fell as you watched the scene unfold. Nothing but pure, unadulterated fear oozed from every action Alfred made. Like a caged animal, he kept his distance from everyone and everything because he simply couldn't understand what was going on.

And the longer the predicament dragged on, the clearer it became to you why he was acting up.

The Brit gave Allen a nervous side-eye.

"Allen, do something! Restrain him, I don't know! We don't have any enhancements, so one stab from that and we're done for!"

He shook his head as he made a weird look. "Wait, what dya' mean restrain him? He's just disoriented, just let him be! What if he dies?"

"Yeah, big guy! Tackle him while we try and sedate him!" The other man exclaimed, narrowly dodging a metal tray thrown his way. His copper brown hair was tied back in a long ponytail, and his eyes were almost as red as Allen's, but they were noticeably darker. "Fuck you! This is pretty much a hospital, you know? Just because we don't have uniforms doesn't mean we tried to sell your organs!"

"... Not that you even have any." He murmured that under his breath, but karma struck and another metal tray came flying his way to hit him square in the face. "Ow!"

Arthur muttered out a string of curses. "Goddammit, Allen! He's not disoriented, he has amnesia!" You tensed up all over as your suspicions were confirmed right then and there. "He doesn't know who any of us are, and he won't have any trouble killing us all when he figures out he can shoot rockets from his arms!"

"Wait, what the fu--I can do that?!"

"Uhh, no you can't!"

There was no way he couldn't remember you, right?

The thought deeply saddened you, but it was more reasonable than getting ahead of yourself. If he couldn't remember Arthur and Allen, what were the chances he'd remember you? Nevertheless, a part of you hoped he somehow did after everything you two went through.

There was only one way to find out.

"Alfred!"

Your shout echoed across the room and he turned to the source. When he saw you, he dropped his scalpel to the ground in a clatter.

His eyes went wider than dinner plates, but you had no way to gauge what he was feeling, let alone thinking. So you let him walk up to you, albeit slowly. When he managed to stand right in front of you, he attached two hands to your shoulders, the action prompting Allen to pull out his gun at light speed. Training that at the blonde's head, he curled his finger around the trigger.

But he never pulled it.

"... (F/N)?"