#hopefully getting more familiar with the lighting will ease the process next time

[seance]

I HOPE THAT YOU WILL FIND YOUR WAY / I HOPE THERE WILL BE BETTER DAYS

[bastardtetsu]

—fine line .

𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙠𝙞 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊𝙓𝙄𝘾𝘼𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙗

pairing: mattsun x f!reader x makki

genre: smut (18+), threesome (mmf), friends to fucking

wc: 4.7k

warnings: dubcon via sex under the influence, drug use (psychedelic mushrooms), oral (f and m receiving), brief mentions of nausea, one mention of w33d, the nickname "princess", a dash of finger sucking, overstimulation but it’s brief, creampie

the come-up is usually the worst of it—at least that’s what mattsun said.

some nausea is common as the shrooms start to kick in, so he suggested that you don’t eat anything immediately beforehand—and you’re glad you took his advice. makki, on the other hand, let his munchies get the best of him and ran off to the bathroom about 20 minutes ago, leaving you & mattsun by yourselves on the couch in your living room. hopefully he’s doing ok.

it’s approaching an hour since the three of you ate your shrooms together, and you’re beginning to feel the slight uneasiness in your stomach fade into a pleasant dizziness spreading throughout your body. you giggle a bit at the realization, drawing the attention of the tall brunet splayed out on the other side of the couch.

“yeah?” he smirks at you with a quirked brow.

“yeah,” you grin back at him, more giggles bubbling from your throat. you can already tell how silly you’re acting, and this observation only makes you laugh harder as your muscles begin to loosen and tingle with giddiness.

“nice,” mattsun responds simply, not moving from his place on the couch. it’s hard to tell where he’s at—being the more experienced one when it comes to shrooms, his tolerance is probably much stronger than yours—but the way he’s sinking into the cushions with glazed-over eyes tells you he’s likely on his way up too.

meanwhile, you already feel like you’ve arrived—any tension in your body seems to have evaporated, leaving you lithe and syrupy and pliant. you feel light as silk, like the slightest breeze could make you flutter away, and you can’t help but drape yourself over the arm of the couch as a stream of giggles continues to spill from your throat.

you hardly even notice the way mattsun looks on with an amused smirk on his face—not that you’d even care. you’ve been friends long enough, and between you, him, & makki, the three of you have embarrassed yourselves in front of each other more than enough to be well past the point of shame.

oh right—how is makki doing?

you abruptly hoist yourself off the couch—though you barely make it a couple steps before pausing to take in the brand new sensation called standing.

“you good?” mattsun asks with a light chuckle. the room feels like it’s floating—or maybe it’s you. either way, your legs feel steady enough to keep you upright, and any sickness you’d felt before is long forgotten.

“yeah, i—”

you don’t have time to finish your sentence before you’re suddenly being pulled into mattsun’s lap, falling against him with a small yelp, followed by even more laughter.

“issei,” you whine as you lean into him, your movements clumsy yet fluid, “whaddaya want??”

“hehe… nothin’,” he snickers in response. he’s definitely tripping now—mattsun’s not particularly physically affectionate most of the time, but now it seems like he can’t get enough of you, tracing his fingers idly up and down your arm while he nuzzles into you. the sensation sends pleasant tingles up your spine, and you can’t help but melt into his chest, the scent of his cologne and the remnants of the weed you were smoking earlier filling your nose as you sink into his warmth.

“wait—“ you sit up, suddenly remembering the reason you stood up in the first place, “you’re distracting me. ‘m gonna check on hiro,” you attempt to stand, but mattsun’s arms are still locked around you.

“don’t wanna get up, though,” he mumbles against your shoulder.

“then lemme go,” you whine playfully. as nice as it feels here in his embrace, your curiosity and urge to explore is more powerful.

“ughhhhh,” he relents with an exaggerated groan, finally freeing you from his grasp.

“stop pouting, i’ll be back,” you call over your shoulder as you scamper off to the bedroom. you don’t quite hear his response, but it definitely sounded like another incoherent grumble.

you check the bathroom first, only to find it empty. you peek your head through your bedroom door next, and sure enough, there’s makki—face down on your bed, the lights still dark despite the sun having gone down a while ago.

“hiro? how y’doin’?” you call out gently, leaning against the doorframe.

“y/nnnn,” you hear him drawl, “c’mere ‘n’check this out.”

you make your way over to the bed to find an entranced makki staring intently at his own hand as it toys with your blanket, captivated by the soft texture and the fluid motions of the fabric beneath his touch. your laughter chimes in the air as your hand drifts to join his, quickly becoming entranced as well.

“soft,” you hear takahiro mutter.

“yeah.”

your vision isn’t blurry or wavy, but it isn’t static either--you aren’t sure how to describe it, but you find yourself unable to look away from the movement of your blanket, its pattern warping under your touch.

“where’s issei?” makki’s voice interrupts your trance.

“still on the couch. didn’t wanna move.”

“lazy ass.”

you both go back to feeling the blanket. though your hands drift beside each other, they don’t quite meet until you brush against his on accident, the new sensation catching your attention and reminding you of makki’s presence at the same time.

of course, this realization makes you burst into laughter.

makki doesn’t seem fazed, though. he just giggles along with you as you flop the rest of your body down across his. soon enough, this turns into both of you rolling around in his bed, the captivating feeling of the soft fabric only rivaled by the sensation of your skin brushing against his. it’s like you’re an extension of the cotton sheets, something soft and pliable that billows in the breeze and tangles in your limbs with ease.

and before you even realize it, you’re all tangled up with him. makki’s warmth surrounds you now, limbs entangled & chests practically pressed against one another, so close you swear you can feel both of your hearts beating together.

a situation like this might’ve flustered a sober you, but by now, your inhibitions are out the window. besides, the two of you are close enough already that it doesn’t feel terribly strange being held by one of your friends like this—you’re already plenty flirtatious with each other anyway.

so you snuggle in closer.

even in stillness, the two of you find motion—your fingers dancing across his back, toying with the material of his shirt, nuzzling your forehead against him while he runs his fingers through your hair. it’s like you can’t stop moving, the restless buzzing in your veins urging you to get closer, to submerge yourself in makki’s warmth.

“okay... your hair?” he says, “is really doin’ it for me right now.”

“yeah?” a smile spreads on your lips.

“yeah,” he whispers, almost a sigh, just like he did when he was spellbound by your bedsheets.

you glance up to find him staring right at you, the expression in his glassy eyes unreadable, but you’re too high to get in your head about what it could be about. you just stare back, drinking each other in in comfortable silence.

makki really is cute—did he get cuter, or is it just the drugs?

“can i—” he finally breaks the silence, “can i make a wild suggestion?

“what?”

“you can say no if you want.”

“what is it?”

you swear you hear his breath catch for a second.

“…what if we made out?”

you pause for a moment to process his words.

“you don’t have to,” he blurts out quickly.

“no, i—“ you pause for another brief second, but arrive at your answer quicker than you expected. “yeah, let’s do it.”

“really?” makki’s eyes widen slightly, and you don’t miss the flicker of a grin across his lips.

“yeah, sure,” you answer, nonchalant but certain.

you’re plenty aware of the potential consequences of hooking up with one of your best friends while you’re both tripping on shrooms— but you’re actually shocked by how much clarity you have.

you know that you want this right now. you, makki, & mattsun have always walked that line between friendship and something more, and though none of you have been bold enough to cross it yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find them both attractive. how can you not when two of your friends look like that?

you figure that’s a good enough reason as any to kiss your hot best friend. so you do.

and fuck, does it feels good. every sensation is heightened as your lips move against each other, parting for each other without hesitation to allow your restless tongues to slip past. in one fluid movement, makki rolls onto his back to bring you on top of him, and you smile into the kiss as you allow gravity to press your bodies even closer.

small whimpers and giggles slip unfiltered between your lips as makki’s hand traces patterns up and down your back. the drag of his fingers along your spine sends shivers throughout your body, like every nerve is buzzing with excitement. your body seems to be moving on its own, propelled by some unseen magic that runs through your veins and warms your skin as your hips roll mindlessly against makki’s—causing a familiar tingling ache to form between your legs.

“ahh, shit,” makki suddenly hisses, “y/n, you’re—“

he cuts himself off as another roll of your hips is met with something firm poking against your ass, causing makki’s breath to hitch in his throat. almost instinctively, you grind your clothed heat against it, eliciting a choked moan from the man underneath you.

your thoughts suddenly catch up to you, and you break away for a moment.

“is this okay?” you ask.

“i feel like i should be asking you that,” he responds breathlessly.

“yo, am i interrupting something?”

a third, deeper voice on the other side of the room grabs both your attention, and you turn to see mattsun standing in the doorway, looking all too casual for the situation, save for a slightly raised brow. to your own surprise, though, this doesn’t seem to faze you either—you know it’s the effects of the drugs, but you’re just happy to see him.

“hi, issei,” your face breaks into a dopey grin.

“‘sup dude,” makki chimes with reddened cheeks and an only slightly awkward smile.

“whatcha up to in here?” mattsun drawls teasingly.

“c’mere,” you whine, ignoring his question to beckon him over with outstretched hands.

“am i being invited to join the makeout pile right now?” he muses, smirk stretched wide across his face as he saunters over to the bed.

“yeah, man, get in here,” makki motions to him too as he shifts to make room on the bed. your collective nonchalance at the situation is enough to make you erupt into even more giggles as mattsun obliges you, sauntering over to the bed as makki shifts over to make room, sitting up from beneath you. a long arm wraps around you as he sits down on the bed.

“this ok?” mattsun utters just a breath away from your lips.

“yeah,” you breathe, smiling into his lips as they press together clumsily. mattsun kisses you leisurely, relishing in the taste of your warmth as his broad hands begin to trace your silhouette, gradually pulling your body closer to his.

your head angles slightly, and soon enough it’s makki’s lips on yours again, biting at your lower lip while issei’s mouth continues its way across your jawline, then down your neck in slow, wet kisses. you can still feel the press of makki’s cock through your clothes, rocking your hips against it and eliciting a deep groan from the man below you.

“shit, princess,” mattsun rasps against your skin, feeling his own pants beginning to tighten, “how far you planning on taking this?”

you’re so lost in the sensation of both of them you can hardly think, but you know one thing for certain: you want more.

“as far as you’ll let me,” you whisper, eyes darting between the two men as your lips curl into a flushed smile.

you swear you feel both of their cocks twitch as they register your words, a single shared look between them sealing the deal before they turn their full attention back to you.

“whatever you say, beautiful,” mattsun’s voice sends a shiver straight to your pussy as he repositions himself on the bed, kneeling beside you so he can lean in closer. his kisses are hungrier now, tongue gliding against yours in broad strokes while makki’s hands grip at your hips as he rocks your dampening core against his hard-on.

hungry for more contact, you reach down to palm the stiffening bulge in issei’s pants, the vibrations of a groan rumble against your neck in response. a hand tangles in your hair while another greedily squeezes around your breast—you’re not sure whose hands are whose anymore, but you’re well past the point of caring. all you want right now is to lose yourself in the electrifying warmth of their caresses.

makki’s hands slip under your shirt to grip your bare waist, and suddenly you’re hyper-aware of your clothing—a thin, but excruciating barrier between your skin and theirs that you need to get rid of as soon as possible. your fingers fumble at the hems of both men’s shirts, too distracted by the surplus of sensations to do much else.

they both take the hint immediately, and before you know it your shirt is being lifted above your head while another pair of hands undoes your shorts. once your shirt is off, mattsun’s tongue is back in your mouth in an instant, while makki wastes no time taking one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking hungrily at the soft flesh and eliciting small, breathy moans from you.

you whimper against issei’s lips as he undoes his pants, tugging down his boxers to reveal his length, half hard but already an impressive size. you can’t help but stare at the veins beginning to protrude from his flushed shaft, tracing them with your fingers as you watch his cock twitch and stiffen under your touch.

“you want that?” his voice is low and breathy. your gaze flickers up to find his lust-darkened eyes staring hungrily at you.

before you can find the words to answer, you feel the body underneath you shift. you look down to find makki’s face between your legs, nipping at the meat of your inner thigh, infuriatingly close to your wet, tingling center.

you can’t help but groan contentedly at the sight as you grasp at his hair, strawberry blond locks tangling in your fingers with ease. he hums in approval at the slight tug, the vibrations tickling your sensitive skin.

“don’t forget about me, now,” issei’s deep voice gets your attention, two calloused fingers pulling your chin back towards him. you’re quick to close the gap between your lips as you wrap your fingers around his thick cock. you stroke him slowly, taking your time to enjoy the feeling of his hot skin against your palm and the buzz of his low groans against your lips.

meanwhile, you can feel makki push your panties to the side, leaving your bare, glistening cunt hovering inches away from his face. though you’re busy with mattsun, you can’t ignore the almost painful hum of anticipation emanating from between your legs as makki’s hot breath fans over it.

“fuck, you’re wet,” he utters breathily, more to himself than anything, but the words still cause your walls to clench around nothing. you can feel mattsun smirk against your lips when you moan into his mouth, your whole body buzzing with pleasure as makki finally begins to lap eagerly at your arousal, his fingertips digging into the giving flesh of your thighs.

you’re trying your best to focus on the movements of your hand around issei’s cock, but you can already feel yourself beginning to fall apart as makki’s tongue circles around your swollen clit, every sensation crystal clear and heightened, while mattsun’s tongue continues to glide against yours.

your pace falters, but a large hand soon wraps around yours, guiding its movements around issei’s cock as your hips begin to twitch with your impending high. makki seems to sense this, letting out a hungry groan that vibrates against your soaked pussy, resonating throughout your body and urging you to cum.

when mattsun leans down to suck on your tits, the wet sensation of his mouth latching onto your hardened nipples melts into the feeling of makki’s sucking desperately at your clit, and just like that you’re cumming, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through your body and making your head spin as you gush all over makki’s face, wanton moans and strings of curses falling from your lips uncontrollably.

even as you ride out the crest of your orgasm, you can still feel the echoes of your high reverberating through your body with every thump of your heart.

“fuck, that was hot,” makki sighs, out of breath and as he detaches himself from your cunt, face smeared with your juices. “how y’doin, y/n?”

“hahh—i… ah…” you struggle to form coherent words through your breathless panting, mattsun’s littering of wet kisses up your breast and collarbone doing nothing to help you collect your thoughts.

“aww, our sweet girl’s already cock drunk,” mattsun coos, almost menacingly sweet, “and we haven’t even put ‘em in yet.”

“mmm,” makki hums as you feel him shift beneath you again, “maybe we should change that.”

you let out a shuddered sigh at their words, your neglected hole fluttering with excitement at the prospect of being filled. your brain is buzzing with endless thoughts and sensations that tangle and fuse into one another, unable to separate the euphoria of the trip from the bliss of being pleasured by two men at once.

you feel someone’s thumb is brushing against your bottom lip, and without thinking you begin to suckle at it, earning a chuckle from the dark-haired man at your side. suddenly, the tip of his thumb is replaced by two thick fingers pressing past your lips. your tongue swirls around the digits without hesitation.

“need something in your mouth that bad, huh?” issei muses, his voice raspy and hot against the shell of your ear. suddenly, he’s licking a slow, wet stripe up your neck as you whine in response, overwhelmed by the multitude of sensations, soon joined by the tickle of makki’s laughter as he teasingly drags his lips across your chest and abdomen.

“i can help with that, sweetheart,” he utters into your skin, peering up at you with half-lidded eyes before leaning back on his elbows, the strain of his cock more than visible through his underwear. you’re not sure exactly when he stripped down, but you’re too high and ravenous to care.

issei removes his fingers from your mouth as he moves to situate himself behind you, rubbing the drool-slicked digits over one of your nipples in the process. you gasp as the cool air hits your hardened bud, the sharp contrast in temperature making your head spin.

your breath only deepens when you tug down the waistband of makki’s underwear to free his length, flushed and dripping with precum already. you find yourself mesmerized by the red, glistening tip, eyes swimming with lust as your gaze travels down the slightly curved shaft to his plump & round balls.

“gonna keep staring all night?” the light-haired man says with a sleazy grin. your eyes flicker up to his mischievously.

“you’re the one who got this worked up just from eating me out,” you tease back as you lean down, wrapping a hand around his shaft.

makki doesn’t even have time to retort before you take one of his balls into your mouth, cutting himself off with a stifled groan as you begin to stroke him at the same time. you suddenly feel a pair of large hands gripping your hips and pulling them upwards, your pliant body surrendering to his touch with ease.

your ass is in the air now, messy, throbbing cunt on full display while you lap at makki’s balls, and you can feel mattsun’s hands kneading at the flesh of your cheeks, spreading them apart to admire your wetness. you arch back into his touch, and you can hear a hungry growl from behind you as mattsun watches your hole flutter around nothing.

you let your tongue glide along the underside of makki’s shaft, his head lolling back with a groan as you reach the head. the sounds he makes when you finally take the tip into your mouth are like music to your ears, and you can hardly control yourself before pushing him further and further past your lips until the head of his cock bumps against the back of your throat. makki’s noises are unrestrained as you begin to bob your head up and down, moaning like crazy and spurring you on as you increase your pace.

you suddenly feel a glob of something warm and wet fall onto the lips of your exposed pussy, but you hardly even have time to process before mattsun’s cock is pressing past your folds, the tip alone already stretching you wide.

you keen around makki’s cock, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure throughout his body that causes his hips to buck up into your mouth. a hand flies to your head as if to steady himself, breathing ragged as his fingers intertwine in your hair, the tug against your scalp only adding to the sensation of mattsun stretching you out on his cock as he pushes into you slowly, the ache of his thickness slightly painful, but so, so satisfying.

“that’s a good girl,” you hear his voice strain from behind you, “takin’ me so well, fuck.”

you can feel his words reverberate in your core as he keeps going, savoring every ridge and vein of his cock dragging along your walls and splitting you open. a guttural sound spills from your throat as he bottoms out, the delicious press of his cock against your cervix nearly mind-numbing. you feel makki’s fist tighten in your hair, another moan falling from his lips as you continue sucking him off.

mattsun pauses for a few seconds to let you adjust to his size, but when he finally moves, it’s with an abrupt snap of his hips. the sudden motion jolts you forwards and nearly causes you to gag on the cock that’s in your mouth, and you yelp at the sharp pang of pain mixed with pleasure. issei doesn’t let up, gradually increasing the pace of his pistoning cock while you struggle to take makki’s down your throat. your vision is going fuzzy, eyes watering as the pleasure and pain meld together into a confusing yet exhilarating ecstasy.

“mmm, look at you, princess,” mattsun hums, “you like choking on makki’s cock while i fuck you? yeah?”

you can barely even whimper in response with your mouth stuffed with cock, already feeling your next orgasm approaching. your head is spinning from the overwhelming range of sensations, drool beginning to leak down your chin while mattsun keeps pounding into you, the rhythmic sound of his hips skin slapping against yours underscoring the breathy whines coming from makki’s throat.

“oh fuck,” the light-haired man practically mewls, his breathing heavy and labored, “m’gonna cum soon. fuck.”

you glance up at him through your lashes, attempting to signal your consent through your gaze. the sight of you peering up at him with your lips stretched around his cock is all makki needs to fall over the edge, letting out a loud string of moans and curses as his cum spills down your throat.

you hardly even taste the bitterness as you swallow it all down, too high and dizzy and distracted by your own impending release as issei keeps railing into you, his heavy balls slapping against your clit with every plunge of his cock into your drooling hole. makki’s lewd cries only spur you on, your brain clouding with pleasure as mattsun’s pace increases, no doubt approaching his own high as well.

the angle of his thrusts changes ever-so-slightly, just enough to hit that perfect, spongy spot deep inside you and sending your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave of euphoria. makki’s spent cock falls from your mouth as you cry out in ecstasy, incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as mattsun fucks you through your climax, his pace unrelenting as he chases his own high.

you can feel tears spilling down your cheek, the overstimulation nearly too much for you as issei continues pounding into your abused cunt. soon enough, though, his grunts and shallow breaths get louder, his hips stuttering to a halt as he releases inside you with a long and breathy groan.

there is silence between the three of you for a moment, save for the sound of your heavy breaths as you each regain your composure. the sweat on your skin is still warm, minds buzzing blissfully with the high of both your climaxes and the drugs.

“fuck,” makki exhales, finally breaking the silence.

you start giggling uncontrollably again, still situated between the two men in a less-than-compromising position that you’re well aware of, but too fucked out to be embarrassed about. your breath hitches as mattsun slides himself out of you, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the sudden emptiness.

“you seemed like you enjoyed yourself, princess,” he purrs as you collapse onto your back, body feeling more rubbery and slack than ever. a dreamy grin adorns your face as you hum affirmingly.

“yeah, i did,” you sigh. makki’s fingers affectionately toy with your hair as your head rests against his thigh, pushing aside the strands stuck to your sweat-sheened forehead, and you instinctively nuzzle into his touch. “why didn’t we do this sooner?”

the two boys pause to share a look.

“you never asked,” they answer in unison.

“pff—“ you nearly snort at their response, “wait, does that mean you—“

“we’ve wanted to fuck you for a while now, yeah,” makki states, straightforward and unfiltered, “never thought we’d get to do it together—but hey, i’m not mad about it,” he adds, glancing over to mattsun, who answers with a simple nod.

“oh my god,” you lament in disbelief, throwing an arm across your face as you devolve into quiet laughter.

it’s honestly pretty hilarious—all the “platonic” flirtation between you & your two hot best friends, the dirty comments and teasing and the pushing of boundaries, and it took a collective shrooms trip for you to finally cross that line. and now, on the other side of it, you wonder what the fuck took you all so long.

through your amusement, it takes you a moment to notice the way issei stares practically spellbound between your legs, splayed open carelessly while he watches his cum drip from your pussy in thick, pearly rivulets.

out of pure curiosity, you reach down to feel its consistency, swirling the creamy substance around before collecting it on your fingertips to stare at. you don’t even realize that you’ve pressed your fingers to your lips until you’ve smeared cum across your bottom lip, mattsun practically gawking at the sight.

“fuck, y/n, you’re gonna make me hard again,” he chuckles.

“shit, man,” makki gripes, “i’m already hard again from watching her cum on your cock.”

you turn your head to look, and sure enough, his dick is already twitching upwards as the blood rushes back into it. you find your mouth watering.

despite the workout you just had taking care of the two men, your find yourself remaining strangely energetic—still thrumming with a delighted sort of excitement, no doubt a result of the psychedelics coursing through your system—not to mention the dull ache of desire still emanating from your core.

“do you wanna keep going?” you ask.

this catches both of their attentions, eyes widening as their gazes snap to yours.

“you for real?” mattsun asks in disbelief.

“i mean, we already fucked,” you reply plainly, “and we’ve still got a while until the trip’s over. besides,” you add, taking hold of both their hands as your eyes flicker between the two criminally attractive men you get to call your friends, “we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

[freddie-weaselbee]

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration. 

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge 

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic. 

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him. 

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss. 

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom. 

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully. 

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before. 

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him. 

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave. 

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him. 

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds. 

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there. 

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him. 

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did. 

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake. 

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more. 

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all. 

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much. 

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say. 

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion. 

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time. 

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken. 

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged. 

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side. 

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long. 

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall. 

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away. 

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

 A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked. 

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure. 

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter. 

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing. 

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong. 

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners. 

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk. 

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression. 

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation. 

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath. 

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say. 

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips. 

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night. 

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on. 

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style. 

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language and mild medical drama Warnings: Brief depictions of medical treatments for blood loss and its symptoms Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Bela has always wondered who her soulmate was, the person she was connected to by red string. When she finally meets them, she's devastated to find them hanging in her basement, being drained of blood. But her soulmate won't die- not if she can do something about it. Notes: Soulmate AU in which people have a red thread tied to their left ring finger (or elsewhere if missing the finger/hand), which connects to their soulmate. By default the string is taut/tight, only getting loose when the pair is relatively close to each other.

1: Stem The Flow

How long had she waited for this day? How long had Bela monitored the red string tied to her hand, waiting for it to be anything other than taut? A decade, at the least, if not two or more. For so long she had dreamt of her soulmate, albeit discreetly, wondering about every facet of their being. Entire days had been spent imagining them, and how they would come into her life. Sometimes, on those days, she would gently tug her end of the thread. Every single time, without fail, her soulmate had returned the motion. It warmed her heart more than she’d ever admit, to know that her excitement was not one-sided.

At times, it did worry her, the feelings in her chest reminding her of her youngest sister. Daniela was obsessed with love, dangerously so, to the point of being downright delusional. More than once her “affections” had gotten their family into some sort of trouble. No matter how mature Bela considered herself to be, there was a part of her that worried about repeating her sister’s mistakes. What if her excitement about her partner led her to overlook something crucial? What if the person in question posed a threat to her family? How easy would it be, then, for her to cut them off?...

Today, perhaps, she would find out.

The sun had set over the Romanian landscape, and with the moon rose the Dimitrescu household. First out of bed, as always, Bela wasted no time in getting dressed. Hazy visions of her fading dreams clouded her mind, tugging on her thoughts as always. Most days they felt more like memories than anything else. Today, they are quieter than usual, easily fading into the background. When the last traces of her grogginess disperse, Bela finds herself glancing at her left hand. It’s a daily habit, although discreet, that always leaves her with bittersweet feelings.

“Wait…” Bela whispered, as her eyes took in the unexpected sight: The red string of fate, tied to her left ring finger, loose as can be. It trails to the ground, coiled a single time, before heading underneath her door. “Am I dreaming?” She does not bother to pinch herself to check. Instead she practically jumps into her shoes, dashing out of her room with unfamiliar glee. Maidens in the hallways have to leap aside to avoid her, but she does not care, for once ignoring the standards her mother had instilled in her. If her sisters could be chaotic, we couldn’t she?

So she follows the thread, eagerly, without even wondering why it was so loose. No, she didn’t think about the implications of the situation. In her mind, it did not matter why her soulmate was finally within her reach, it simply mattered that they were. Soon enough they would be in her arms, safe, with nothing else to bother them. And then she’d be happy, finally having someone she was on equal terms with. Finally having someone to confide in, to cherish, to whisper sweet nothings to in the dead of the night.

She doesn’t hesitate until she finds the string wrapped around the door to the basement. At last the signs click together in her mind, like a conspiracy board bound with crimson ties. Instantly panic replaces whatever excitement she had been feeling. Then she’s abandoning all sense of caution, throwing open the door and rushing forward, dispersing into a swarm to cover more ground. Even if she could no longer see the thread in this form, she was certain that she’d know exactly who her soulmate was when she saw them.

And, well, she does. Something calls her to the far corner of the main room, where a body was suspended from the ceiling by its hands. An all-too-familiar needle was sticking out of the person’s arm, leading down to a large glass container, which was slowly filling with blood. The scent made Bela’s nostrils flare, and her eyes go wide, but she did her best to fight against her instincts. Quickly she gets to her knees, examining the jar to see how full it was. Most of the measurement lines were faded, having been worn out over time, making it harder to estimate the volume. In the end, Bela guessed that the container could fit just over six liters inside. Which meant that the person had lost close to… two and a half. That was bad- behind bad, really. Horrible, actually. Immediately life threatening to the point of having been life threatening before Bela had even woken up.

“Don’t die on me, please,” she half cried half shouted, jumping into action as best as she knew how. Not even bothering to turn the nozzle on the device, she pulls the needle out of her soulmate’s arm, cursing when more blood rushes out of the hole. Then she’s applying pressure, hard as she can, beyond glad that they weren’t awake for this. One hand goes to tear a piece of fabric off of their shirt. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind, all things considered. Next, Bela ties the cloth around the collection point, making less of a tourniquet and more of a generic bandage. “Shit, you need a transfusion, don’t you?... Fuck, fuck, what’s your blood type?”

Knowing that she wouldn’t be getting a verbal answer any time soon, Bela settled for dipping a finger into the jar, bringing it to her lips, and licking. The difference in taste among blood types was subtle, but she was nothing if not a professional at this point. Still, the type is not immediately clear to her, and she knows that she might have to go around licking more blood from other prisoners. Unless… could someone receive a transfusion of their own blood? Such a thing had never happened at the castle before, but there was a first time for everything.

“Hold on, I’ll figure this out, somehow, I promise,” Bela said, gently taking her patient’s hand in her own. Taking your hand.

When you wake, you find yourself among the softest sheets you have ever felt, as if laying on clouds themselves. But your vision is blurred, and your head is besieged by waves of pain. A whimper makes its way past your lips. For a moment all you can do is tense up, unsure of any detail of your situation, unable to discern anything around you. Then you feel a hand on your own, squeezing gently. Something about it sends a rush of comfort throughout your entire body. Still, you are more confused than anything, and you find yourself trying to sit up out of instinct.

Without warning the hand lets you go, only for the owner to shift their weight, climbing on top of you in an instant. They’re holding you down, saying words that don’t quite reach your ears. For how light they are, they manage to put an impressive amount of pressure on you, easily rendering you immobile. Unfortunately, this position does little to ease your anxiety. The last thing you could remember was a very, very tall lady sticking a needle in your arm with a cruel laugh. Based on how you felt, there was still a needle in your arm. But you had been standing, or hanging, before, and now you were on your back.

“Whathe… wha the ‘ell… can’t 'hink,” you muttered, stumbling over your own tongue. Whoever sits on top of you tries to comfort you, running a hand through your hair. “Who are you?” You asked, even though you couldn’t understand a word this person said. Their voice might as well have been in another language, with the way your addled brain processed it. Had you lost too much blood? Or maybe you had a concussion? “I just. I just wanted to meet them. Please, I jus… I just wanna see my soulmate.”

Again, you cannot understand what the person says in response, but they finally seem to understand this. One of their hands reaches out and grabs your left one, slowly tapping your fingers, one by one. When they reach your ring finger, they pause, gently holding it. For a few moments you’re left even more confused. Then, with a surge of warmth in your chest, the dots are connected. Whoever is with you quietly grabs the thread attached to your finger, before tugging gently. In order for them to do that… well, there was only one explanation. They were your soulmate. They were the one you had gone to this accursed castle to meet. Somehow they had saved you, and everything was finally looking up.

Mind clearing slowly, you’re finally able to understand something they- or she, as far as you can tell- say.

“Rest now, my beloved. You are safe in my care, this I promise.”

[goonification]

yungi smut

[18+] Mingi gets hard before stages and has no idea why. Neither does Yunho but he’s happy to help.

The fast-paced voice of a MC echoed through the hallways over a loudspeaker to introduce the lineup for the night’s show. No one was listening too carefully though to the tinny voice, as the livestream usually only acted as a reminder that, in the same building, the Music Bank stage was soon to be lively with performances for the next 90 minutes. It wasn’t uncommon for the muffled sounds of the host to be overshadowed by the busy chatter of stressed out staff and excited idols, donning various elaborate and colourful outfits. 

It was less than an hour until Ateez were supposed to be rounded up and ushered to the wings of the stage, prepared to give the nth performance of their most recent comeback.

While most idols we’re counting down the minutes to their upcoming stages, Mingi was rushing back to his group’s green room, hoping to god it was empty.

He scuttled through the crowds, politely bowing at passing staff and tucking behind ongoing interviews to not draw attention to himself. A lanky, 6ft man with a hand on his crotch lumbering through the background of someone’s acrostic poem segment would be bound to draw the wrong kind of online attention.

Hand grasping the doorknob of their assigned green room with relief, the sounds of the hallways were snuffed with the thick door shutting behind him. 

He gave the space a quick once-over, falling at ease when he found it seemingly empty. With the room barren of members or staff, Mingi pressed his back to the door as a makeshift lock and shamelessly dropped his pants below his waist.

This wasn’t an uncommon scenario.

There are plenty of different ways that the human body can react to a stressful situation. Some people overthink to the point of a headache. Others have physical reactions, like shaking or sweating. Some people even feel faint or collapse.

However, Song Mingi got boners. Plain and simple. He doesn’t know why it happens. Often, he doesn’t even know when it’ll happen. 

The regularity of stage fright had faded away to a fear of the past. With the exception of the occasional special stage, Mingi typically didn’t get stressed out over every individual performance but, for some godforsaken reason, his body seemed to know what a pre-show countdown sounded like and reacted regardless. 

Nervous or not, popping a semi backstage was a shamefully familiar feeling for Mingi. He was well aware that there had been a couple of fancams where his half-hard cock made far more of an appearance than he wanted and, determined to not repeat history if he could help it, intended to try de-escalating his problem before stepping foot on stage this time.

Mingi looked down at his dick, standing fully upright.

It was mocking him.

Frustrated at his situation, Mingi furrowed his brow, scowling at his penis before feeling grateful that no one saw him do that. Nothing like a healthy dose of random horniness to cloud every crevice of his brain with a layer of fog, stopping him from thinking rationally. 

He collected his composure with a deep breath, using his knees to pinning his pants at his mid-thigh in case someone entered unexpectedly, and got to work.

A large hand wrapped around the proportionately large shaft and began to pump, so quickly in fact that his whole body lurched forward at the sudden relief. It wasn’t long before his knees instinctively spread and baggy pants fell to his ankles. There was no use picking them back up. Not a minute could be wasted. The door behind him could open at any second. With his very noticeable presence missing, someone was bound to be looking for him to reunite him with his members.

Mingi didn’t know how much time he had. A few drops of spit and a dab of precum was all he could gather as lube, forcing him to slow down his pace to avoid discomfort. Mingi whined. He knew this wouldn’t take long at all if he was back in the dorms with his usual creamy lotion or the constant flow of a soapy shower to keep his length slick.

He could practically hear the threat of a ticking clock in his head. The bustling sounds of people on the other side of the door weren’t helping. The MC’s voice echoed again, saying something about a commercial break, probably the first of several. He was desperate to fix his problem fast and would need to try something different.

A shaky second hand joined the first, holding it steady as his hips took on the task instead. The closed tunnel of his fist stopped the air from drying away his precious moisture, allowing for a more comfortable friction than before.

“Ah-” Mingi couldn’t stop the escape of a single low moan as he fucked his hand, balls slapping against his curled fingers and stretched wrist with each thrust.

It felt good, definitely better. But he was still too distracted. While his new technique was undoubtedly more successful than the first, his brain was still going a mile a minute with the looming reminder of the risk he was taking. His hands were shaking, needing to readjust their grip every few seconds. 

Mingi didn’t want to cry; he had just had his makeup done. Yet, still, every shaky slip of his hands was contributing to a growing frustration. 

It was becoming more difficult to keep quiet. Mingi was being assaulted with the buildup of both dull pleasure and throbbing pain and needed some way to express it. Small grunts were turning into breathy moans, low and long, to try to keep the sounds contained in the room.

Suddenly, even through welling tears, his eyes caught sight of a slight movement caught in one of the dressing room mirrors. What Mingi assumed were just piles of jackets on a couch began to shift, before he noticed the pant legs of a stage outfit, matching the one Mingi was currently “wearing”, donned on a long set of legs. A pair of large boots stuck upright off the end of the couch.

“You’re terrible at staying quiet.” Yunho’s familiar voice spoke out from under the pile before he threw a heavy jacket off of his head, exposing his tired face in the reflection of the mirror. He was basically eye-level with Mingi’s cock.

“Ah, what the fuck!” Mingi shouted, trying and failing to pull up his pants. In that moment, he silently cursed the stylists for always putting him in the baggiest outfits. He repeated his expletive of choice. “What the fuck were you doing under there?”

Yunho squinted tightly, shaking his head as his eyesight adjusted to the harsh fluorescent light of the room. “I had a headache and couldn’t find the light switch.”

“Oh.” Mingi stood dumbfounded and beet-red. Yunho was as giant as he was and it wasn’t like he was exactly hidden. He mentally scolded himself for not checking the room better before fully exposing himself, accidentally baring his entire cock and balls to his friend.

“I knew you were horny earlier!” Yunho exclaimed, like it was his own personal victory for guessing correctly. “You were all bouncy and quiet during stage rehearsal. Kinda like before you take your extra long showers. Always before the stages too, huh? Why is that?”

Mingi shrugged. He didn’t know what to say. He especially didn’t know that Yunho was so attentive to his behaviour. It made him think back to every time he busted what he thought was a secret nut but maybe he wasn’t so private after all.

It was a lot of information to take in with his pants around his ankles. He had so many questions. Mingi started with an easy one. “Why didn’t you say anything when I came in here? I would’ve stopped.”

“Honestly, I thought you were here to get me.” Yunho was fixing his hair at the mirror, composing himself while stealing occasional glances of Mingi’s cock in the reflection. “At least, until I heard you all -” He mocked the deep timbre of Mingi’s voice and moaned comically. Painfully to Mingi, even the unflattering imitation made his exposed dick twitch. He hoped to god Yunho was too busy laughing at him to tell.

Noticing the shift in posture, Yunho offered some comfort, not wanting his friend to feel too embarrassed. “I didn’t mind. Really.”

“But why did you scare me like that?” Mingi’s embarrassment shifted to anger. Yunho’s logic wasn’t making any sense and Mingi still didn’t have a plan for how he was going to get his dick down.

Yunho avoided the question. “How long until we go on?”

“Huh?” Without context, the request went right over Mingi’s head.

“Fine, I’ll look for myself.” Yunho raised an eyebrow before checking a nearby phone. “Forty seven minutes until our stage? That’s tons of time.” 

The tension on Mingi’s face unwravled with a small ounce of relief. The events of what felt like hours of pure frustration likely took place over a mere thirty seconds. He just needed to be reminded.

Still, the reality was that Mingi was rock hard and not as alone as he thought. As one problem disappeared, another became even more prominent. Yunho made his way towards Mingi and the door, hopefully to leave the room, and pretend he saw nothing. 

Even in that best case scenario, Mingi wasn’t sure if he could ever recover from the mortification of what just happened.

Wanting to drop the hint and give Yunho better access to the door, Mingi shifted to the side, movement restricted from the pants still pooled around his legs and too ashamed to pick them up.

However, Yunho didn’t turn towards the door. He instead turned his attention towards Mingi, who had backed himself into a corner. They were uncomfortably close considering the fact that Mingi’s lower half was fully nude.

Yunho smiled stupidly as though the confusion on Mingi’s face was unwarranted. “What? You were struggling to get off, right?”

“Yes...” Mingi admitted, still confused over what exactly his friend was doing. “It was that obvious?”

“Believe me, I know what it sounds like when you’re getting off. What I just heard sounded like a struggle to me.” Yunho never broke eye contact with Mingi. There was a glint of joy in his eyes as he explained his thought process, while never actually revealing his intentions.

Everything he said only raised even more questions. So many that Mingi didn’t have the brain capacity to sort through. Right now, he was more curious why Yunho had him cornered in their dressing room. 

“Mingi,” Yunho uttered his name as though he was scolding him with endearment. Telling him off for being so apparently stupid even thought Mingi thought his confusion was very much justified. “Do you want me to help you?”

Yunho wanted to jerk him off? Mingi thought he had heard wrong.

On first thought, it would fix both problems at once and still leave time to spare, even if the idea of his friend touching his dick would leave Mingi with a whole new slew of questions to plague him until they got back to their dorms. That is, if Yunho would even want to talk about it.

Mingi was getting ahead of himself. He needed to answer the question first.

He kept thinking, pushing through his stress and arousal to conduct a clear thought. Yunho was handsome. He was always clean and smelled good, and liked holding hands with Mingi. Though his qualifications were sparse, Mingi was almost surprised at just how unopposed he was to the idea of Yunho helping him cum. After all, that’s all it would be, right? A friend helping out a friend.

“C’mon, you’ll feel so much better afterwards. I don’t like seeing you in pain.” Yunho pouted as he got closer to Mingi’s face. He was being sweet. Buttering the other boy up without knowing that it wouldn’t even take any convincing to get him to agree.

If only Mingi could answer the damn question. All he could muster up was the confidence for a moment of warm eye contact and a gentle nod.

It was signal enough for Yunho, who leaned in for a hesitant kiss. Mingi’s puffy lips were already parted and set to lock with his own. As they brushed against each other, Yunho’s tongue peaked out, sliding over Mingi’s bottom lip and making him shudder before dipping inside his gaped mouth. 

The gap between them closed even further when the fabric of Yunho’s pant leg accidentally brushed over Mingi’s hard cock, which was poking out and occupying most of the space between them. Mingi moaned into Yunho’s mouth, a gentle reminder that they had a goal to achieve.

“Mmm. No more,” Yunho sighed with regret. He pulled back as Mingi stupidly chased his lips in a daze. “We need to be quick, remember?” 

“But you don’t need to see your hands to jerk me off.” Mingi pouted comically, trying to convince him to return to their greedy kiss. He didn’t expect to enjoy kissing Yunho that much and was wondering if it could turn into a hobby of theirs.

Yunho simply chuckled, obviously knowing more than Mingi about his plans for his mouth. After a breathy “huh?” Yunho took the cue to drop to the floor.

Mingi froze. He was expecting a steady hand to help jerk him to completion at the most but this was so much more. The sight of Yunho on his knees, locked upright so he could keep his face raised inches from Mingi’s cock was making his head throb in more ways than one.

He watched as Yunho’s eyes darted around, carefully examining every inch of him as fast as possible. If he knew Yunho was going to be that close and personal with his junk, Mingi would have shaved that morning. 

“I knew you were big but, damn.” Yunho’s vision stayed locked on to Mingi’s shaft. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted. He looked just as needy as he felt.

“I mean, you don’t have to go d-” Mingi couldn’t even provide an alternative, let alone finish his sentence before Yunho’s tongue was curling itself around his head, soaking his cock with a sudden warmth. Mingi’s hand flew to the wall, then his thigh and, finally, Yunho's hair, needing to grab a fistful of something to keep him steady.

Yunho tilted his chin, relaxing into Mingi’s touch and exposing the length of his neck towards the ceiling. Still, he stayed connected via his tongue. Mingi gulped loudly at the sight of Yunho’s throat swallowing, which was suddenly looking very empty to him.

The soft stimulation prompted beads of creamy white to escape from Mingi’s cock, directly onto the flat surface of Yunho’s tongue. He moaned at the taste and vibrations surrounded Mingi’s stirring cock head. Embarrassingly and against his will, Mingi pushed forward a bit, cock sliding across Yunho’s tongue and spreading the pre-cum all over the wet muscle.

“Sorry.” Mingi sheepishly apologized as he returned his hips to where they were before but, to his surprise, Yunho bobbed his head. He artificially repeated the motion over and over until the entirety of the cock’s head was trapped inside Yunho’s mouth. His tongue was running indulgent laps as it circled the pulsing tip.

Mingi was a panting mess. He wasn’t sure if he should speak. Should he tell Yunho how it felt? Would that be too much?

It was then that Yunho’s gaze flickered up to make eye contact with Mingi. His eyes were glossy as though he was stuck in that moment. Mingi’s stomach did a flip at the sight. He was waiting for Mingi’s approval.

“It feels good, you know?” Mingi whispered as the fist in Yunho’s hair released to scratch at his scalp. Mingi didn’t exactly sound confident but Yunho could tell the words were genuine considering how the other boy was falling apart above him. The upper half of Yunho’s face lit up with a would-be smile at the praise.

Meanwhile, his mouth stayed open wide, lips surrounding Mingi’s cock with a gentle suction, before pushing forward slowly. Yunho didn’t look away, not even once, as Mingi watched his cock disappear inch by inch inside his friend's mouth.

“Jesus, Yunho...” He hissed as more of his shaft was coated with the slippery friction from Yunho’s spit.

Yunho was only two inches from fully swallowing Mingi’s cock before he came to a halt. As he paused, he shifted with discomfort on his knees. The breathing from his nose became more erratic, puffs of warm air bouncing off of Mingi’s pelvis. It was clear he had reached his limit. Even while he couldn’t get Mingi’s dick all the way down, his determination was admirable. Cute, even. It was especially impressive considering Mingi presumed it was Yunho’s first time doing this. 

Mingi dropped his hand to fall behind Yunho’s ear, rubbing his neck with a long thumb. Not experienced with dominant dirty talk, he merely offered a simple smile to let him know it was okay to retreat.

When Yunho began to pull back, Mingi caught sight of a bulge in his throat deflating as his dick reappeared. The thought of being that deep inside any of Yunho’s holes made him shudder with excitement.

Less than a second of the cold dressing room air had cruelly returned before Mingi’s dick was throbbing with need again. The shaft was a reddened, slobbery mess as Yunho cupped him against his hands before returning his mouth to the leaking tip.

Now, when Yunho bobbed down on the cock, his movements were more confident, knowing his limits and puffing up with pride over his abilities. Once he reached the checkpoint, he twisted two slippery hands over the base to make up the difference, fully covering Mingi’s large cock in one way or another.

This time, when Yunho pulled back, he tried sucking in his cheeks. He was so concentrated on making Mingi feel good, eyebrows furrowed in a way Mingi would’ve thought was adorable had the air not been just knocked out of his lungs by the new sensation of suction inside Yunho’s mouth.

Yunho never let the tip leave his lips before taking the entire shaft deep into his mouth again, producing extra spit only to suck it up again when he pulled back. It was clear he was enjoying himself discovering his newfound talent. 

Not as much as Mingi was enjoying himself.

The feeling was unlike anything Mingi had ever experienced. Yunho’s mouth was like being surrounded by an always-moving, sopping-wet warmth. The boy on his knees took the term ‘sucking’ dick very literally. Wet and sloppy sounds echoed through the tiny room as Yunho slurped at his cock. 

Mingi was fully collapsed against the wall at this point, fighting gravity to keep himself standing. His moans were deep, guttural and spurring Yunho to move even faster, knowing that Mingi must be close. 

He was. Mingi was seconds away from cumming and already panicking over where he was going to finish. As pretty as he would be covered in streaks of white, Yunho was already in his stage clothes and makeup, ruling out that option. Alternatively, it wasn’t like Mingi could just leave a puddle of his release on the green room floor. The clock was ticking and Mingi didn’t have any alternatives left.

Yunho, more intuitive than Mingi was aware of, must’ve sensed his panic. He looked up at Mingi as though he was trying to tell him something, eventually slowing his neck’s momentum to a standstill and grabbed his attention.

As Mingi’s eyes were full of panic, Yunho eased his fears with a small nod of approval, motions mostly restricted by his throat accommodating the deep curve of Mingi’s cock. Yunho’s eyes were glistening with tears but dark with determination. He was ready to let Mingi take over.

Mingi whimpered, clawing at the wall as he realized what Yunho was telling him. 

“In your mouth? Are you sure?”

A gurgle escaped from the back of Yunho’s throat as he pushed his limits even further, allowing the cock to sit the deepest it had been. Despite his gagging, his actions were entirely permissive, knowing he wouldn’t have to endure the pain for long before Mingi would finish.

Dormant hips sprung into motion, sliding back at first and dragging his cock along the inside of Yunho’s mouth. Strings of thick saliva followed the path, dripping from Yunho’s bruised lips. Carelessly, Mingi’s ass hit the wall with a thud with how roughly he fucked backwards, making Yunho wince in preparation for him to return.

When his hips snapped forward, it wasn’t as bad as Yunho expected. Sure, Mingi was rough in his desperation but the slickness of collected spit gave the cock a smooth re-entrance past Yunho’s lips, into his mouth, and down into his raw throat. Yunho couldn’t help but moan as he felt himself loosen up to accommodate, hoping that the sound got concealed beneath the low sounds of Mingi’s own pleasure.

Mingi fucked his willing mouth again and again, inching just a little deeper each time whether he knew it or not.

“Yunho. Feels good.” Mingi grunted out, unable to conceive proper sentences as his vision was flashing white with fast growing pleasure. “So good. Fuck.”

With the added motion of Mingi’s thrusts, those final two inches that he couldn’t quite conquer seemed like a task from forever ago, Yunho’s throat gladly opening itself up to accommodate until Mingi’s cock was buried completely. It wasn’t long until his nose was bumping against a set of abs.

Ready to be emptied, Mingi’s heavy balls smacked against Yunho’s chin with each greedy snap of his hips. It should’ve been humiliating but Yunho found himself arching into the motions. It felt good to have Mingi use him.

Yunho kept his needy gaze up at Mingi, watching the way his mouth fell agape and the muscles in his jaw clenched. His chest was heaving as he got closer and closer to completion. The sight inspired Yunho to work through the increasing soreness to help Mingi succumb to his pleasure.

“Ah!” Mingi yelled loudly and abruptly, followed by several softer stutters. His hips suddenly began to jerk in a rhythmless pattern he couldn’t quite control and then the first hot spurt of cum splashed against the back of Yunho’s throat. The second erupted into the cavern of his mouth as Mingi fell back further, shaking with pleasure.

Yunho hollowed his cheeks, not allowing Mingi to retreat any more and trapping the twitching cock inside his mouth. He sucked deeply and used the rest of his energy to relax the entire length of his throat and milk Mingi’s shaft until he was empty.

Mingi’s head fell back in awe as Yunho’s tongue lapped every last drop of cum that emerged from the hole on his tip. He was going above and beyond at this point, the aftershocks of Mingi’s orgasm already starting to subside.

“You can stop if you want.” Mingi’s voice was shaky, hoping Yunho wouldn’t take him up on the offer. The gentle warmth felt nice against his softening cock, easing him back to reality gradually instead of all at once.

“Mm, I probably should, shouldn’t I?” Yunho croaked out against his dick, giving the tip one final kiss before letting it fall limp against Mingi’s thigh.

They paused for a brief moment to catch their breath. Mingi dropped a hand to Yunho’s shoulder, giving it a soft massage as a thanks. “Are you okay?” 

Yunho tried to answer but, at first, the words got caught on their way out. Clearing his throat, Yunho choked out a laugh at the discovery of how raw his throat was. “It’s a good thing I didn’t plan to sing live tonight.”

Mingi giggled at the half-joke before yanking up his oversized pants, needing both hands to hold the flowy fabric up so they wouldn’t fall again. Kindly, Yunho helped him tuck the now satisfied cock away before zipping up his fly.

“You know you might have less of a problem if you just wore underwear?” Yunho poked roughly at the downsized but still prominent bulge in Mingi’s pants.

“But it’s uncomfy.” Mingi whined, clearly more willing to go the lengths of jerking off before a performance rather than just wear another layer. Tired and needing to conserve his energy, Yunho rolled his eyes and found another spare phone to check the time. He clicked on the homescreen with little care for the fact that one of their fellow member’s phones was currently being contaminated with Mingi’s dick particles.

“Was that really only ten minutes?” Yunho’s eyes widened at the screen and Mingi went red in the cheeks. “Guess I’m pretty good at that, huh?”

“Yeah. You could say that…” Mingi nodded, getting shy again as the realization set in that his best friend’s lips were just around his cock and they were already back to business as usual. That is, if they didn’t count how disheveled they both looked from the aftermath. Mingi ruffled his hair back to look as close as possible to how the stylists left it.

Not having too much time to dwell on what their new experience meant for their friendship, a loud knock on the door made both boys jump out of their skin. The knock was only a warning as the hinges creaked and the door swung wide, trapping Mingi behind it.

Panicked and then relieved, Mingi stumbled against a plastic knob on the wall, the room falling into darkness just in time for someone to enter the doorway.

“Yunho, are you in here?” Hongjoong’s voice carried through the small room until he saw Yunho by the mirror, hopefully only looking like he woke up from the best nap of his life and nothing else. Definitely nothing else…

“Hey, what are you doing in the dark?”  Luckily, he couldn’t see Mingi. His voice continued. “And why are you on my phone?”

Mingi cringed when Hongjoong snatched the phone back and placed it on the counter. He thankfully had no idea where Yunho’s hands had just been and he would probably never find out.

“Just checking the time.” Yunho replied nonchalantly, rubbing at his jaw.

“Yes, we’re on soon!” Hongjoong sounded excited. Enthusiastic about even the task of coraling up his fellow members for their performance. He seemed too distracted to notice Yunho dabbing away at his lips to clean himself off.

He patted Yunho on the back for encouragement before turning to leave out the open door. “Can you find Mingi on your way back too? We don’t know where he is.”

“Sure thing, Hyung!” Yunho did a goofy salute, playing the clueless role with ease as he bid Hongjoong farewell out of the room. The door slammed shut, leaving both Yunho and Mingi in the pitch dark.

“Hey Yunho,” Mingi whispered loudly, as though the darkness would make it harder to hear.

“Hm?” Yunho’s boots squeaked as he turned to face the voice.

“I think I found the light switch.”

.

.

.

[blueheartedmayor]

Random tended to forget that violence wasn't supposed to be a "normal" thing. Prison had slightly desensitized her to it, though she wouldn't be surprised if the whole uncle incident had left her with some trauma. Still, she also knows she can't say Yancy murdered him either.

"Um... Well, I didn't, no. Yancy said he'd take care of it. I trust him with that much. And I'm doing much better now, I promise."

She takes another sip of coffee to prevent herself from saying something she shouldn't.

"Anyway, during that whole thing, I...realized that I was in love with Yancy. So, I told him."

She pauses, another brief but pained look appearing on her face. Just the thought of the events that followed made her stomach twist in knots.

Don't cry, do not cry. You can do this.

"...He didn't feel the same way, so we agreed to just be friends. I still want him in my life, it's just..."

She shakes her head slightly and sighs.

"He has two boyfriends. It's an arrangement they're all okay with. But, I dunno, seeing them with each other...just really hammers home how lonely I've felt since prison. I know I shouldn't rush into anything, but it's just...hard to deal with."

She sips her coffee, choking back the lump forming in her throat.

@the-crypt-of-randomness

-

It wasn't the ideal solution, but Damien decided not to press the matter further. Hopefully there would be some resolution. It wasn't right knowing that someone could attack an innocent party and get away with it. The bruise on her cheek was present, but not too obvious. It must have happened some time ago. Presumably, the authorities would be on the case by now.

Then, the thought that Damien had came to light - there was a confession, and one that was rejected in a manner that Damien couldn't even begin to fathom.

Rejected because the feelings weren't mutual was one thing. Rejection because of a partner was another. But revealing that he was in a polyamorous relationship must have been a difficult discovery to make, if only for emphasising that loneliness. Did it make her feel like she'd never find something like that? That was hardly a fair conclusion for someone her age to make.

... Suddenly, Wilford's abrupt arrival and vacation plan made a lot more sense.

Before Damien could speak, there was shuffling beside Random as Barnum was attempting to make it his mission to climb onto the couch beside her. Sadly, little legs made that climb a little harder, and the steps to get onto the couch were too far away.

"You might need to help him up, Random," Damien chuckled. "But... I am so sorry to hear that you've had so much to deal with. I know there's little I can do in terms of offering proper resolutions, but... I need you to try and not compare yourself to others when it comes to relationships, for your own sake. And, if I may say so, it's good that you are currently away from all of that. Being in a familiar location with memories and associations makes it terribly difficult to try and get a grasp on where you need to go next, nor does it allow you to properly process your emotions in a way that doesn't risk stumbling back over and over." He paused to sip his coffee with a thoughtful expression. "You know... I do believe there might be some small community events happening as part of the summer festivities in various public spaces in the city. Mayhaps you could attend one or two while you're here and try to branch out, just a little. And beyond that..."

Damien rested an elbow against the arm of the chair, deciding that this ought to be something that needed to be shared. "I do know that feeling of loneliness well. I thought I had found happiness, then lost it. I may have had friends, but it did little to ease that - that hollowness in your chest when you know others are happy. If you aren't careful, it turns your world stagnant, and it feels as though you will never properly be 'yourself' again... But then," his gaze shifted from Random to the corgi, "I adopted Barnum. And suddenly, the world became more colourful again. Having a companion to keep you in a routine, and who will make it their business to be a part of your life, can help give a new sense of purpose. Of course," he quickly collects his thoughts to made an important addition, "I know I don't know your personal situation. However... While you're here, spend a little time with Barnum. See if having a pet of some sort might help in the future."

[hallowxiu]

An Unlikely Reunion

pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc

word count: 3.6k

summary: Having been separated from Mammon for the last several months, you head to the council room to meet the new exchange student. You probably should have expected this outcome.

a/n: sorry this update took so long. my sister was in town visiting for the holidays and just recently left. here’s the third part of the human!mammon & demon!mc series :)

part one | part two

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen Mammon. You were unsure if he had even noticed your swift disappearance, given you’d only ran into each other on three separate occasions. You’d be lying to yourself if you said the entire situation hadn’t bothered you. You were practically under house arrest for the last two or three months. Had it been longer than that? You stopped counting. 

You were still expected to do your chores and duties, but you were forbidden from traveling to other realms. Not that you had an urge to pop into the Celestial Realm, but even that was off-limits now too (you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed there in the first place). In other events, Lord Diavolo had recently approved of a new exchange program that would take place within the next few days. The Devildom would be hosting two human students, as well as two angels. You found it interesting, though you knew Lucifer was more than likely against it from the start. Still, you had found the idea of it ridiculous at first; humans were allowed to visit the Devildom and yet you were still in trouble for running off to the human realm? 

Belphegor did not take the news well when it first broke. Beelzebub had to pick the demon up and carry him back to their shared room before he destroyed the entire living room. He had been screaming and shouting until the door of their room quietly clicked shut. He kept it up, too, despite Lucifer warning him to drop the act. He made sure to remind Diavolo whenever he got the chance that he’d regret this decision and that nothing good ever came from the human race. You were honestly surprised that Lucifer never punished him, and you were even more surprised when it was revealed that Belphegor would be the demon traveling to the human realm as an exchange student. If you were being honest, you didn’t believe it at first. How did Lord Diavolo and Lucifer get him to agree to such a thing? Besides the youngest born holding a deep hatred for humans, he’d never been away from his twin, Beelzebub, for too long either. 

He was gone now; he left two days ago. You were hurt when you found out he left without a goodbye, and you knew Beelzebub shared your thoughts when you caught the expression on his face when Lucifer broke the news. Other than that, not much has happened since you last saw Mammon. 

With Belphegor taking his leave early, only two days remained before the exchange program would begin. Servants and demons alike had been bustling around the Devildom to make everything ready for the new students. This was a matter of war or not, as this could potentially bring peace between the three realms. You weren’t complaining; you liked the idea of not having war constantly looming over your head. 

“I wonder what kind of human Lord Diavolo ended up selecting for the program.” Asmodeus was painting his nails from where he lounged on the couch. You were sitting on the other end, scrolling through your D.D.D while listening to your brother gossip for the last several minutes. Since Belphegor left, Asmodeus had been insistent that the two of you spend more time together. You weren’t sure why he wanted the sudden attention from you, but if you had to guess you’d say he missed his baby brother. You thought it was cute. 

But of course, hanging out with Asmodeus doesn’t come without a price. For you, it was listening to endless gossip for hours on end. “Hopefully one that doesn’t start trouble wherever they go.” 

“That would make it interesting though, don’t you think? It’d be boring if they were like Lucifer or Satan, always following the rules.” 

“Satan doesn’t always follow the rules.” You commented and glanced over at the other. “At least when it comes to Lucifer, anyway.” 

“He might egg on the human if they cause trouble. Anything to annoy Lucifer.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he thinks over the endless possibilities. “I hope they’re cute. I haven’t slept with a human in a while.”

“Gross.” 

“What? I thought you of all demons would appreciate that statement.” You quirked an eyebrow at his comment, though you opted not to say anything. Sometimes it was better to let Asmodeus think he was in the right. You looked up from your spot on the couch upon hearing someone enter the room. A smile graced your lips when seeing that it was Beelzebub. 

“Did you come to keep us company?” To say the sixth born had been lonely since Belphegor left would be an understatement. He had trouble sleeping, keeping himself invested in conversations, and he even had some trouble eating. It made your chest feel lighter to see the demon out and about instead of sulking in his room. Had he spent another day locked away in his room, you would have dragged him out. Perhaps this was for the best that he was coming out willingly. 

“I did.” Was all the redhead commented. Asmodeus sat up to give him room, the larger demon sitting between the two of you. He brought snacks with him, settling them down on the coffee table. “Feel free to have some.” You and Asmodeus exchange looks with one another. It was unlike Beelzebub to share his food with anyone other than Belphegor. He must still be feeling the effects of the younger being away. “He hasn’t answered my texts yet.” There was a frown on his lips, almost resembling a child’s pout. 

“Remember what Lucifer said? It might take a couple of days for Belphie to get settled down. Plus, I’m sure he’s going through a lot emotionally right now. I’m sure he’ll answer once he’s feeling more comfortable.” You reassuringly rubbed the side of his arm and Asmodeus nodded in agreement. 

“Belphie would never ignore you. I think he’s physically incapable of it.” Asmodeus’ comment seemed to put him more at ease, his shoulders relaxing slightly. 

“And you know he’d never approve of you locking yourself away in your room. You’re not a hermit.” You gently chided your younger brother. 

“Your name isn’t Leviathan,” Asmodeus said with a grin and you leaned over to gently swat at his knee. 

“Be nice.” You warned lightly. 

You found yourself standing in the council room with Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and the rest of your brothers excluding Belphegor. Today would be the day the exchange students were revealed. Though you hadn’t said it out loud, you were curious to see who the human would be and what they’d act like. There was a lot of secrecy surrounding the human, Lord Diavolo unwilling to spare any details, even with Lucifer. You had wondered why, but Lord Diavolo was a hard man to read. Whether it had any significant meaning or not, you didn’t know. You looked around the large room, trying to see if you could pick out an unfamiliar face. When you couldn’t, your eyebrows furrowed in visible confusion. “Where--”

Before you could finish your question, a flash of bright light filled the room, nearly blinding you and your brothers in the process. Over the next couple of seconds, the light’s intensity dwindled until the light was no longer there. Slowly blinking the light from your eyes, you see a human standing in the middle of the room, their back facing you. A snicker left Satan who stood behind you. 

“Welcome to the Devildom- oh.” There was a falter in Diavolo’s speech. “It seems we caught you at a bad time.” Laughter budded within your chest when seeing that the human was only dressed in a bath towel. Did they seriously give the human no warning before summoning them to the Devildom? Talk about unlucky. 

“What the- where the hell am I?” All the color drained from your face upon hearing that all too familiar voice. Oh no. Talk about unlucky. 

“Welcome to the Devildom, Mammon.” There was a slight flush to his cheeks as he spoke. You were sure he regretted his lack of proper planning now. You were secretly glad something finally came back to bite him in the ass. Of course, having said that, this was also coming back to bite you in the ass. “You look a little disorientated, but there’s no need to worry. You’ll adjust to the Devildom soon enough.”

“Or, hear me out, maybe I look disorientated because I was just steppin’ out of the damn shower, gettin’ ready for work, and then I found myself in some strange ass room surrounded by a group of men. I don’t know about ya, but that’s not the kinda work I do.” You silently put a hand to your mouth, fighting back laughter. Oh, this was most definitely not good. Of all humans to select, of course, Lord Diavolo picked Mammon, because why wouldn’t he? He did not know who he was speaking to, and even if he had, you weren’t sure that would have changed anything. 

Glancing behind you, you could tell Satan was already keen on the human. Mammon was doing a good job of flustering Lord Diavolo, and therefore getting underneath Lucifer’s skin. Looking to your left, you could tell Asmodeus was also keen on him, though that could simply be because he was only dressed in a towel. The strangest things always seemed to excite your brother. The rest of your brothers looked amused but other than that you couldn’t get a read on them. 

“Right, well I believe an introduction is in order, don’t you think?” Of course, he gave no time for Mammon to answer. He probably wouldn’t want to hear it, anyway. “My name is Lord Diavolo and I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me. And now, you do too.” There’s a smile on his face as he greeted Mammon. Although you couldn’t see his face yourself, you doubt he’s impressed. “And someday soon, I will be crowned the King of the Devildom.”

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” 

“We’re currently in the council room of the Royal Academy of Diavolo, but we call it RAD for short,” he didn’t answer him, which was probably the smart thing to do, “this is the building where you’ll be taking all of your classes.” 

“Why am I here?” There’s an exhausted tone to Mammon’s voice. 

“I will be more than willing to explain everything to you.” Lucifer stepped in, a chilling smile on his face and Mammon instinctively took a step back. “My name is Lucifer and I’m the Avatar of Pride.” 

“He’s also the vice president of the council and my right-hand man! I’d even go as far as saying that we’re best friends.” You watched as Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at Diavolo’s interjection. “We tell each other everything.” Satan snickered again and you have a hard time keeping the grin off your face. 

“Lord Diavolo, please.” There’s an exasperated look on his face before addressing Mammon once again. 

“What the actual fuck is goin’ on?” Mammon’s rubbing at his temples in frustration. “Lucifer? Like, the devil? Oh god, I must have slipped while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my skull open or somethin’. I bet I’m bleedin’ out on my floor as we speak.”

If you were being honest, you zoned out for almost the entirety of Lucifer’s speech as he caught Mammon up with everything. You were too distracted by the sound of your blood pulsing in your ears. You were staring at Mammon’s back, with such an intensity that Asmodeus cleared his throat from beside you. You didn’t mind; you were too busy trying to think of a way out of this. What would Mammon do the moment he turns around and sees you? Would he make a scene? Call you out by name? Lucifer wanted the human you spent your time with dead; what would he do if he found out that human was Mammon? 

Your attention was quickly brought back to reality when you realized Lucifer was introducing everyone. Unfortunately for you, you had never been a great actor, and lying was not your strong suit. You watched in silent horror as Lucifer began to introduce your brothers in no particular order, before landing on you. You felt the sweat beading on your forehead as you locked eyes with Mammon from across the room. His eyes widened dramatically, and you suddenly found yourself praying that he would not make a fool of himself in front of everyone. Your mouth ran dry as you could only stare in return. You were speechless, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

Thankfully you didn’t need to, as Lucifer was speaking once again. “You can pick which one of us you’d like to watch over you during your stay here. You should feel honored, usually, we would just assign you to someone without you even getting a say in the matter. I would recommend myself or even--”

“You.” Mammon’s pointing at you before Lucifer could finish his sentence. “I want you to watch over me.” The room grew silent during the exchange between the two of you. You were sure everyone was suspicious now; why wouldn’t they be? What human is so eager to pick from a batch of demons he’s never met before? If he never met you, he wouldn’t have chosen so quickly, and he wouldn’t have cut off Lucifer to do so, and he most certainly wouldn’t have--

“Very well then.” Lord Diavolo was smiling as he looked over the room. “Mammon, I’m sure you’ll find yourself in good hands. An excellent pick of a demon, second only to Lucifer. While they can stir up a bit of trouble from time to time, I think you’ll find yourself relatively safe by their side for the most part.” Relatively safe? And for the most part? Gee, thanks, you think to yourself with narrowed eyes. 

As soon as Lord Diavolo called the meeting to a close, you darted out of there with Mammon. He struggled to keep up with your pace, though he managed for the most part. Most of the brothers assumed your odd behavior was simply because you didn’t want to bother looking out for a human and you were secretly glad that’s what they thought. “You need to be more careful when speaking to Lord Diavolo.” You said as the two of you headed back to the House of Lamentation. Mammon was stomping around in only a towel. It was almost comical if you weren’t so terrified of the outcome of the exchange program. “Lucifer will wring your neck if you disrespect him.” Mammon only huffed in response. 

“Ya have some explainin’ to do, demon.” 

“I know.” A sigh left you as your head started to throb from the conversation that had yet to begin. 

“Like why ya just upped and disappeared and shit, then I turn around and find ya in some weird shady place.” 

“The council room is hardly a shady place.” 

“Are ya bein’ for real?” He gave you an unconvinced look. “Although I guess now it makes sense how you were able to scare those thugs off. Some demonic shit or somethin’.” 

“You have to stop swearing so much. Lucifer will get annoyed.” You ran a hand over your face to smoothen out your features. Oh, this would be a long, long year. 

“Lucifer this, Lucifer that. Is all ya ever think about Lucifer?”

“The man who can and will rip my head off for misbehaving? Yes. And I’m already on thin ice with him. He got super pissed when he found out I snuck off to the human realm again. I’m surprised I’m not wearing a house arrest bracelet right now.” You make a point of keeping Mammon by your side, lest he wanders off and gets eaten by a demon. 

“So that’s the reason ya didn’t come back?” You glanced back at him, confused as to why he was asking.

“Yeah. I wasn’t allowed to. He even went as far as going to Lord Diavolo to make sure I don’t travel anywhere.” You didn’t feel too comfortable airing out all your problems with Lucifer to Mammon. Call yourself crazy, but he didn’t exactly give you vibes that he was great with secrets. Lucifer finding out you were unhappy with him through a human? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a fun day for any of you. 

“I still think I’m dreamin’ this all up. That, or I really did fall while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my head wide open.” 

“I can assure you that you are neither dreaming nor bleeding out in your shitty apartment bathroom.” There was a grin on your lips as you spoke. “Now, walk faster. We need to get back to my house before a demon sweeps you up and runs away. You’re literally parading around in a towel; you might as well be serving yourself on a silver platter.”

“It’s not like it was in my control.” 

“Still, we should hurry. Your soul is practically glowing.” 

“Ya still have explainin’ to do.”

“Are you serious?” You grabbed him by the arm to quicken his pace. “I already told you. I snuck to the human realm, met you on accident, ran into you on the street, then again at the cafe, and then a third time at night.”

“Makes ya sound like a stalker.” There’s a sly grin on his lips and you feel your eye twitch.

“I’m not a stalker. They were all coincidences. Like I’d go out of my way to find you. Don’t get cocky, you’re only a human after all.” A chill settles over you. Okay, maybe you had gone out of your way once or twice, but he didn’t need to know that. “Besides, it happens all the time. I’ve lived hundreds and hundreds of years. You think you’re the only human I’ve ever bumped into on the street?”

“No,” there’s a thoughtful look on his face as he gripped his towel with his free hand to keep it from falling, “but I bet I’m the only human you’ve ever gone out of your way to save.” Your eyes narrowed and you huff quietly. 

“Hey, don’t go spreading that around. You’ll ruin my reputation, you know.” To this, you only hear a quiet chuckle from Mammon. 

With the two of you standing outside the House of Lamentation, you dug for your keys in your pocket. Mammon shifted uncomfortably behind you. “Would ya mind hurryin’ it up? Some of us are practically naked out here.” 

“Announce it louder; maybe another demon will take you off my hands.” You chuckled to yourself when hearing an annoyed sigh from behind you. “Be patient.” You scolded lightly as you went to unlock the door. With the turn of the key, the door opens to reveal the inside of the house. Mammon shuffles in nervously behind you, his eyes anxiously taking everything in.

“Sure is, uh, roomy.” 

“You’re back.” Mammon nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Lucifer. He quickly moved behind you, anxiously peering over your shoulder. 

“Yes, well, it turns out Mammon is quite the slow walker.” You ignored the look on Lucifer’s face and gave Mammon a reassuring smile. “Well? Let’s go; you want to see your room, don’t you? You’ll be given a change of clothes there.” 

“Say no more.” Mammon’s hurrying down the hall before you can say anything else, leaving you and Lucifer alone for the moment. 

“It seems friendly with you.” His tone is accusatory, and while you have an idea of what he’s implying, you try not to let it show on your face. Sometimes, playing dumb when around Lucifer was the best action to take. 

“I suppose.” You played it off. “I think the human is just nervous to be in the Devildom. Can you blame it?” You flinch at the usage of your own words. You didn’t like referring to Mammon that way, but it might make Lucifer less suspicious of you the more detached you sound. “Humans aren’t exactly meant for the Devildom, and it doesn’t help that Lord Diavolo summoned it in just a towel. Might as well stuff an apple in it’s mouth and put it on a plate.” Lucifer seemed to take your words into consideration before a sigh escaped his lips. 

“You may have a point.” You felt the tension begin to leave your body. “The human was quick to select you. You don’t find that odd?”

“I think you’re just intimidating.” 

“And you aren’t? You’re no less intimidating than the others. It could have picked anyone, yet it settled for you. I couldn’t even finish my sentence before you were selected. There also,” there’s a pause in Lucifer’s speech, as if he’s carefully forming a sentence in his mind, “never mind that. Just do your job and make sure a demon doesn’t pluck the human like a fruit hanging from a tree. We’ll be meeting the rest of the exchange students tomorrow, as well as attending classes, so make sure the two of you get enough rest tonight. I will not tolerate anyone skipping the first day of classes, nor will I excuse any tardiness.” 

And with that he’s gone, making his way back toward his office. A sigh of relief left you before you snapped out of your daze. “Shit,” you swore silently. Mammon didn’t know where his room was.

[wonniesmile]

❥ ellie’s first step into ‘i-land’

⤷ ellie had just finished her entrance test, making it into i-land. hopefully, she doesn’t get kicked out.

⤷ word count: 1.4k+

⤷ warning: this is all purely fictional, none of the arguments and conflicts within this series is a true reflection of the trainees. everything you read is made up from my pea-sized brain.

after a teary-eyed goodbye to the grounders, ellie and the i-landers go through the egg contraption. her mouth gapes open in awe, realizing just how high tech this building was. ellie follows the applicants into the egg, squeezing into the very back corner. 

“hi, i’m sunoo.” a boy introduces himself, “i’m ellie!” she replies. she recognizes him, “you guys performed crown, right? you were really awesome up there!” sunoo smiles, oh god her heart, he’s adorable. his cheeks bubble up to show his whisker dimples and she smiles.

the egg finally stops, gaining an amazing reaction from the rest of the applicants. she gets on her tip toes to get a better view of the inside of the building. giving up, she slouches and waits for everyone to leave the contraption. “wanna be friends?” sunoo asks from beside her, she happily accepts and they giggle. 

“oh my god...no this isn’t real...holy moly.” she examines the room they had just stepped into. 12 chairs were placed in a semi circle in front of the egg and right behind it was the coolest dance room she has ever set her eyes upon. banners decorated the top of the glass wall leading into the dance room. there were pillars set up around the room and steps leading down to the chairs. “how much money did they spend on this, my god!” she exclaims and sunoo replies, “probably billions...” he too was amazed at the sight of the room. 

suddenly, a booming voice echoes, yet again, throughout the space, “from now on, we will start the next stage to match the capacity of the i-land. decide 4 people to eliminate by your own vote.” a bunch of “no ways!” scattered around the room, everyone in pure shock at what the next step was. “the vote for elimination will start in two hours.” ellie puts her face in her hands, worrying about what could happen. the egg lights up with the timer and she gasps. “sunoo, what do i do?” sunoo pats her head to reassure her, “it’ll be fine.” she takes off her bag and sets it down in front of a chair, following along at what the others were doing. “shall we look around the first floor first?” a trainee by the name of jay asks, everyone agrees and they start their tour.

throughout the tour, ellie was way too excited at the sight of all the new rooms to even think about the elimination process, she has got to start speaking to people sooner or later. thank god she had sunoo.

“i think we should sit down and talk.” choi seon suggests. the 17 applicants, including ellie, take seats on the contemporary couch decorating the living space. sunoo pulls her to an empty seat next to jay, while pulling up a chair for himself. seon takes the lead, explaining to everyone that by the end, they HAVE to pick 12 out of the 17 trainees sitting in this room. everyone agrees with his statements and ellie nods her head. she gets lost in her thoughts, ‘so all i have to do is pick someone based on their performance and attitude...ok got it.’ on paper, it seems easy, but ellie knows that experiencing it will be a lot harder than she thinks.

“i would like to introduce you to jake sim.” sunoo pulls ellie towards him and she waves at the boy in front of her, “jake meet ellie, ellie meet jake.” jake waves back awkwardly. “i thought you two would get along well since ellie is also from australia.” jake’s eyes light up. “seriously?!” ellie nods her head, “g’day!” ellie says in her thick aussie accent, jake whispers a little ‘wah!’ and gets excited. “where from australia are you from?” he asks, “i was born in brisbane but moved to quebec, canada at the age of like 10.” jake nods his head to show he understood, “but the aussie accent stayed!” he giggles, “i can see that, i’m from brisbane as well!” ellie claps, feeling ecstatic after meeting her second friend of the day. “so, when’d you move here?” ellie asks, “2019! i passed a global audition and here i am, better than ever.” he says. ellie giggles at his response, “i also moved here early 2019!” her smile seemed to have reached her eyes. sunoo looks at the two of them adoringly...and cluelessly, not understanding a single word being spoken at the moment, “i knew you two would get along!” he says, clapping.

the three of them went on to converse for a few more minutes before sunoo left to go talk to some other people and jake left to go use the restroom. feeling uncomfortable with being alone, she walks over to the kitchen, where ta-ki and ni-ki were both showing off their dance moves, “i want to practice now” she overhears ta-ki say in japanese. ni-ki notices ellie watching the two from afar and he mentions her to come over, “ta-ki, she speaks japanese.” he ‘whispers’ to the boy. “hello!” ellie says, while bowing, “my name’s ellie!” she slaps herself mentally, ‘too much’ she told herself. “ah, ellie.” ta-ki says, cautiously, “yep, that’s me!” ellie replies, “are you also japanese?” ta-ki asks, “um...i actually learned the language myself after watching animes...” she awkwardly laughs, “wah! you’re so good!” ta-ki sticks both his thumbs out at you. ellie thanks him. a silence fills the air and ellie plays with her fingers, “well...i’m getting a bit hungry, so im gonna go get a bite to eat!” she tells the two, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

time passed and ellie felt more and more nervous. the timer got closer and closer to 0...what is she gonna do? sunoo and jake have both been by her side, feeling more comfortable with them, who the hell was she going to vote off?

“ellie, please head to the voting room.” the voice announces, her knees felt weak, here goes nothing.

a heavy air surrounded the voting room, it almost felt like she was suffocating. the monitor in front of her seemed to mock her. the 17 applicants (including herself) faced directly in front of her. “4 people...4 people is all i need to pick.” she says to herself. carefully her fingers tap a trainee’s profile, “i’m so sorry.” it was seon, “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” now all she needed to do was pick the remaining 3, “god, i can’t do this.” she leans against the screen, contemplating her next decisions. (i’ll leave the other 3 trainees she chooses up to your interpretation ;) )

rubbing her hands together, she exhales the biggest breath, “that was harder than the entrance test...” she laughs at her response, “i’m so sorry.” she says one last time, before exiting the room.”

“the first dropout received 10 votes.” the booming voice seemed to haunt her more than ever. looking down at her lap, she bites her lips in worry. “kim sunoo.” her heart drops to her feet. no, this can’t be happening. she quickly looks to her side, sunoo’s lips forming a pout as he runs a hand through his hair, “sunoo...” ellie grabs his hand and he looks back at her, “i’ll be fine.” squeezing her hand for reassurance, ellie looks back down onto her lap.

“the second dropout received 9 votes.” ellie squeezes her eyes shut, “noh sungchul.” she looks around, not really familiar with the applicant’s face. “the third dropout received 9 votes, ta-ki.” ellie’s eyes go wide, he was the last trainee she would’ve thought of. “the fourth dropout received 6 votes, ej.” ellie releases a breath. “those who got eliminated, please move to the ground now.” ellie quickly looks up at sunoo, “yes, i get it.” he says with a smile on his face. ellie’s vision gets blurry as she watches him, “please come back.” she says as he pulls her in for a hug, “i will, you know i will.” sunoo lets go and looks into her eyes, “make new friends! bye bye!” he waves. ellie watches as he steps onto the egg. she waves her farewells, looking up to stop the tears from falling (it was a successful tactic btw). she smiles at sunoo and he mirrors it, “bye bye!” she mouths and sunoo waves as the contraption closes. here we go again...

[bytheangell]

We Take Care of Each Other

Whumptober 2020 prompt: “Please... get it out!”  (Read on AO3)

Alec’s shots haven’t missed their mark all night. He isn’t the type to get overconfident, he knows that’s the exact moment you set yourself up to lose, but he knows when he’s on enough of a roll to push his normal limits, shooting a little faster, aiming a little further out than he usually would in order to cover more of the small team he’s on mission with.

They follow a small number of Shax demons, killing a few as they go but leaving at least one alive in front of them at all times to hopefully lead them back to its nest. They’re getting close, Alec can tell, but something feels off. It’s just a gut instinct, but he’s learned to trust those more often than not so he’s on higher alert than usual as they round the next bend of the abandoned subway tunnel.

He sees the nest first, and so do the other Shadowhunters who set to work swiftly dispatching as many of the demons as they can, as quickly as they can. It’s a delicate process - sometimes Shax demons use their victims to breed, which means there may be people alive down here. There are more of them in the tunnels than they anticipated, given the number they already killed along the way. Alec spots a victim near the back and makes a beeline for her, catching several swipes of the demons’ pincers along his legs in an attempt to stop him. He reaches her and checks for a pulse, heart sinking when he doesn’t find one.

Fuck.

He can hear the cries of the demons behind him, the telltale sounds of the other Shadowhunters taking them down one by one with thin blades chosen specifically to pierce through their hard upper shells. He’s so focused on the nest and his search for other victims that he almost misses the orange glow to his left, along a smaller side tunnel.

The color may be different, the light foreign and threatening, but he recognizes the glow of magic when he sees it.

Of course, he has just enough time to think. If the Shax demons are being controlled by a warlock, he should’ve considered the possibility that the warlock would be with the nest, not necessarily somewhere safe and above ground.

“WARLOCK, WEST SIDE TUNNEL,” he shouts to his team. There’s no time for a subtle warning as he moves to duck out of the way of a narrowed beam of orange magic that just barely misses his shoulder. A moment later, Alec has three arrows knocked in his bow. He pulls the string back and releases them one after the other with practiced precision.

Alec might be fast, but the warlock is faster. With a flick of the warlock’s wrist, Alec’s arrows are suddenly consumed with a faint orange glow, and he watches in horror as they stop moving, flip direction, and shoot back at him under the warlock's control. He dodges the first one and recovers just fast enough to hit the second away, leaving a thin cut down his arm from the action. Between the speed of the first two arrows and his wounds from the Shax demons, however, Alec doesn’t recover in time to stop the third arrow from hitting him.

It pierces straight into his stomach, lodging itself in deep. Alec staggers back, fighting the shock that threatens to take over both his mind and his body. The pain is immediately excruciating - he can see blood coming from the wound much faster than a normal injury, and dimly registers through the pain that it must’ve nicked an artery.

“Sir-” one of the Shadowhunters rushes over to him, catching him under the arm and easing him down to the ground.

“Targets first,” Alec chokes out. “Clear the nest. Warlock--” but a glance to his side shows the warlock disappearing through a portal just as three Shadowhunters descend on them. “Fuck,” Alec breathes. He wants to curl in on himself but the arrow is in the way.

“What should we do?” One of the Shadowhunters asks, voice high and panicked. Alec isn’t in the state of mind to sagely suggest they calm down and think back to the basic medical training they get at the Academy, and instead groans, both at the pain and at the fact that he’s bleeding out in a dirty underground tunnel surrounded by a team of rookies.

“Get it out,” the Shadowhunter still kneeling at his side says. Her hands are shaking but she looks like she’s bracing herself to help despite being terrified for Alec, which is how he knows he must look pretty bad.

“No!” Alec shouts, or at least he tries to shout. The single syllable comes out desperate and rasping. “Arrows… more damage… coming out.” He’s losing blood too fast. It’s all he has the strength left to do to pull the cellphone from his pocket and drop it to the ground with a single word: “Catarina,” before everything goes black.

---

“Are you with me, Alec?”

Alec slowly comes back to consciousness to the sound of Catarina’s voice somewhere above him. He groans.

“Good. I was hoping you didn’t call me here just to die on me,” Cat says, forcing a smile. Alec blinks several times to focus and can see the strain on her face.

“Please, get it out,” Alec begs, the words weak.

Cat shakes her head. “I don’t want to take the arrow out here, but I closed the wound around it to buy us some time. Think you can stay conscious long enough to portal to the Institute?”

Alec nods slowly. “Mag-” he starts, but his words dissolve into a violent coughing fit.

“Already on his way to meet us at the infirmary,” Cat supplies, not needing him to finish the question. “C’mon, let’s make sure you’re still breathing when he gets there.”

A portal opens and Alec is aware of several hands helping to lift him in addition to Catarina’s magic. Alec does remain conscious for the short duration of portal travel, as well as just long enough to be carefully sat down on one of the empty beds before he passes out again.

---

Before Alec opens his eyes again, he feels the weight of Magnus’ hand in his own, the cold press of rings a familiar comfort. Eyes still closed he manages a weak squeeze, one that’s returned immediately with three times the force.

“Alexander?” Magnus’ voice comes in a soft whisper from his left.

Despite his body’s desire to fall back asleep, Alec forces his eyes to blink open, fighting how heavy his eyelids feel. Magnus sits on a chair beside his bed in the infirmary, a half-empty coffee cup on the table next to him.

“Magnus,” Alec manages, then swallows thickly, his throat dry from disuse causing him to cough instead. Magnus snaps his fingers and conjures a glass of water which he wastes no time holding up to Alec’s mouth for him to drink from.

Alec’s pretty sure he can handle holding a glass, but doesn’t fight it, taking several small, slow sips until the dryness goes away. Looking down he sees that he’s shirtless, his abdomen heavily bandaged.

“Should I be jealous that you called Catarina before me?” Magnus asks jokingly, following Alec’s gaze to the wrappings. “She says you’ll make a full recovery after a few days of bed rest.”

Alec sighs, then winces when the up-and-down motion tugs at his injury. “Great. We both know how much I love that.”

Magnus hums. “About as much as I love calls from my best friend in the middle of the night that my husband is bleeding out in an old subway tunnel?”

“Sorry I worried you,” Alec says, giving Magnus’ hand another squeeze.

“Don’t be sorry,” Magnus says, standing now so he can lean over Alec. Magnus places a soft, gentle kiss on Alec’s cheek first, then his temple, and then his forehead. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Me too,” Alec says, realizing for the first time that he hadn’t been so certain he would be alright in the moment. That thought tightens something in his chest entirely unrelated to his injuries, and he shifts himself over enough to make it obvious he wants Magnus to lay next to him.

Magnus doesn’t need to be told, though he’s extra careful about sliding in next to Alec without bumping against his side. “No matter how many times you get hurt, it never gets easier to see,” Magnus admits, threading his fingers through Alec’s hair as Alec rests his head on Magnus’ shoulder.

“I know,” Alec agrees. “If it makes you feel better, having you here makes being hurt a lot easier to deal with.”

“It does,” Magnus says. “Though I believe I’m supposed to be the one comforting you right now, and not the other way around.”

Alec smiles despite the constant, gentle throbs of pain. “We take care of each other.”

He doesn’t have to look up at Magnus’ face to tell he’s smiling when he replies, “Always, darling. Always.”

[themandhoelorian]

Dincember - December 4: Hot Chocolate

summary: Mando has unique ways of showing his affection for his son, like getting him hyper on too many cups of hot chocolate, but it’s only after a long day of bringing the kid down from his sugar high that you realize Mando has similar ways of showing how much he cares for you.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: a caffeine addiction, sleep deprivation, the smallest sexual innuendo, Din being sweeter than hot chocolate, not super well edited ahaha

word count: 3.2k 

a/n: asdfghkldf this is so so late but this week has been long and exhausting (no this fic was definitely NOT me projecting), and I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to write :/. I’m not even really sure this makes sense, but that’s kind of how my brain works when it’s exhausted, so hopefully on some level that’s accurate ahaha 

***

You never understood the appeal of caf until you joined Mando’s crew. 

The first time someone offered you a cup, that one day you showed up to the tiny mechanic shop of your first job with bags under your eyes, complaining about how little sleep you’d gotten the night before, you thought you’d been handed a steaming cup of motor oil by accident instead. 

The dark liquid felt like lava on the roof of your mouth, leaving the taste of bitter ash on your tongue as you willed sip after sip down your throat. It did pull you out of the sleep-deprived fog, but it was more of a jolt in the opposite direction than a gentle tug, your body shooting into overdrive and hands shaking so intensely you burned your fingers on your soldering iron more times than you could count that day. 

After that, you tried to stay away from caf as much as possible. No matter how little you’d slept the night before, how often you were caught staring blankly at the wall instead of untangling a mess of wires, you always refused when you saw a mug of hellfire coming your way. The acrid taste, the jitters, none of it was worth enduring when you just had to make it to closing before you could go home and sleep away the fatigue. 

But now, your full time job is taking care of a child, and every night is a night with too little sleep. You spend your days trying to wrangle a warm, mischievous demon into compliance instead of just manipulating cold scraps of metal, and the kid doesn’t have “closing hours”- not with how violently he reacts to the notion of bedtime- so there’s never a sweet finish line to look forward to at the end of the day. 

You thought you’d known exhaustion before, felt it heavy on your shoulders those months you worked overtime to make ends meet, but that was light years away from what you feel now. The black hole of sleep consumes you as soon as you get the chance to lie down, and when you inevitably wake to the sound of cries a few hours later, it feels like the weight of the galaxy is crushing your lungs, making it nearly impossible to crawl back out of bed.

So after just a few weeks on the Crest, after that one day when you accidentally dozed off watching the kid play and woke to find him sticking a finger into the barrel of a blaster (thankfully Mando had the sense not to keep his weapons loaded on the ship or Maker, that could’ve ended badly), you bought a caf maker on the next planet and forced yourself to chug a cup every morning since.

The taste still sucks, no matter how much cream you’ve tried mixing in, but it doesn’t make you jittery like it used to, the caffeine just enough to keep you awake, and now you don’t know how you ever took care of the little womp rat without it, especially on the days when Mando returns from his hunts and the child bursts with energy to welcome his father home.

Even if it’s only been a couple days since Mando left, you’d think he’d been gone for months with the way they act at seeing each other again. The kid’s just downright ecstatic, dropping whatever part he’s playing with as soon as he hears the hiss of the hull opening and babbling excitedly as he runs into his father’s arms. He’ll follow Mando’s every move for at least an hour after he’s returned, and sometimes, you have to literally pry him from the beskar so Mando can retreat to the cockpit and set the course to the next planet.

And then there’s Mando. He’ll look stoic as ever as he takes the child into his arms, but you can feel how eager he is to reunite with his son, his affection all but spilling out the sides of his armored chest. He’ll never admit it, of course, you’re not sure he’d even be able to find the words to say it if he wanted to, but he finds other ways to show the kid how much he missed him, how deeply he cares about his little foundling.

More often than not, those methods include spoiling the child to no end, giving into the kid’s every desire and providing him with a few moments of pure, unrestrained joy. And more often than not, you’re left with the not-so-simple task of dealing with the consequences of giving the child his every wish, easing him down from the euphoric high and re-establishing that he absolutely cannot expect that kind of indulgence with anyone but his father.

Like one time, Mando stayed awake with him all night long, conceding five more minutes every time the kid whined when he was told it was time for bed. Five minutes quickly turned into hours as they watched the bright mosaic of hyperspace go by, the kid so happy to just sit in Mando’s lap while he spoke in the soothing tones of his people’s tongue. You were only able to pull the child from his father’s arms in the early hours of the morning, all three of you only half conscious at that point, and you spent several cycles trying to get the kid (and yourself) back on a normal sleep schedule.

Or like today, when Mando returned this morning while it was still dark outside, and you woke to the smell of cocoa and peppermint what felt like mere minutes after you’d fallen asleep. When you finally pulled yourself from the bunk, you found Mando sitting next to the child as they sipped on steaming liquid, his helmet tilted back just enough for him to bring the mug to his lips. 

He made the kid hot chocolate, you realized from the way the child threw back his bowl so quickly he left milky brown splotches on his face. Of course. Mando had made a habit of bringing sweets back for his son after he’d once gotten his hands on a chocolate bar you’d splurged on in the market, nearly bouncing off the walls with glee as he devoured the entire thing in seconds. That was a memorable day for all of you: the kid found his new favorite snack, Mando found another way to indulge the child, and you found out that when the kid has sugar in his system, you need caf more than water to survive the day.

So it’s no surprise that several hours and a couple more servings of hot chocolate later, long after Mando’s gone to the cockpit to fly to the next planet, you’re chasing the tiny ball of energy around the hull, running on nothing but an unhealthy amount of caf mixed with a little bit of spite, worried you might collapse before the sugar-fueled monster falls asleep.

You have half a mind to be mad at Mando for getting the kid so hyped up on the decadent drink and inevitably making your job that much harder, but you can’t get the image of them together this morning out of your head, Mando dabbing the mess from the child’s face as giggles bubbled from his tiny mouth. The memory’s shaded with the golden haze of dawn, like those dreams that feel warm and familiar, and you can feel your heart swell re-imagining that moment of perfect bliss, father and son so content just to be with each other and the sweetness in their cups.

And oh, you know you could never be upset at Mando for indulging the kid, creating those little pockets of warmth in a life filled mostly by cold, dead space, no matter how much more work it makes for you. Not when you know that he savors those moments as much as the child, that the days he’s back with his son are the only times he doesn’t have to be tough and menacing and deadly, the Crest the only place he doesn’t have to armor up his feelings just as much as his body.

You’re willing to reign in the kid, be the tough one on the ship, if it means Mando can show his son the softness that lies beneath the beskar, tuck away the sharp edges when he holds the little green menace in his lap. You’re willing to lose weeks of sleep course-correcting after each indulgence if it means he can let the honey of his love ooze thick and messy before he’s off to the next quarry and has to lock his affection behind iron walls again. You’re even willing to drink all the caf in the galaxy, let cup after cup burn bitter down your throat, if it means he can have a moment of peace sipping hot chocolate with his son at the break of dawn. 

You’re more than willing, happy even, to do all that and more for him, especially if it means you can catch glimpses of the man behind the guise of “Mando” in the process, a man whose heart you’ve found yourself wondering more and more about lately, wondering if it might one day beat strong and steady for you the same way it does for the kid.

So no, you’re not mad at Mando, not in the slightest. It’s more that right now you’re worried you might not be physically able to do those things for him, the shorter than usual night of sleep catching up with you faster than you can fight it off with caf. You’re pretty sure it stopped working after your third cup anyway, the additional caffeine just making you dizzy and no more energized, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep up with the child’s pace. You’ve played peekaboo and thrown around his favorite silver ball and even tried to show him how to rewire an old generator (not that you had any luck with that), and he still hasn’t crashed from his sugar high. 

You have no idea what else to do to keep the child busy, and Maker, you’re just so kriffing tired right now, so you’ve resorted to leaning against the door of the weapons closet, floating in that hazy space on the brink of consciousness, using what little of your energy remains to make sure he at least won’t get his hands on a blaster again. 

You’re not even completely sure what the kid’s doing right now, just know he’s somewhere on the other side of the hull, and you can only hope that Mando doesn’t come down here and find you and the kid like this. The last thing you want to do is make him worry, doubt how much you care about his son’s well being, but it’s like he can feel your exhaustion radiating through the ship because the next thing you know, the heavy echoes of his boots fill the hull as he descends the ladder from the cockpit. 

You will yourself to sit up straighter as you hear his footsteps getting louder, locate the child before Mando can, but your body is working on a little bit of a lag, and by the time you actually open your eyes, Mando’s walking past you, the child snoring softly in his arms.

Of course he fell asleep as soon as you took eyes off of him, the little monster.

Mando doesn’t say anything as he tucks the child into his makeshift bed before striding back to the other side of the hull, and some faraway part of your brain tells you to explain yourself or apologize or say kriffing anything at this point, but the inky gravity of sleep is pulling you in deeper with each passing moment, and you can’t be bothered to speak when your eyes are threatening to droop shut again. 

They must have at some point because you don’t remember seeing Mando approach you, but somehow he’s in front of you now, holding a mug out in front of your face. Maker, you must’ve drifted off, long enough for him to decide you needed some help staying awake and make you a cup of caf, and as you reach for it instinctively, bringing the cup to your lips in the trained motion, you can’t decide if it’s just as a thoughtful gesture or a thinly veiled warning for you to actually do your job.

You hum as the warm liquid coats your tongue, deliciously silky and slightly sweet, and it’s only when you swallow, the milky substance gliding down your throat, that you realize-

“This isn’t caf,” you mumble, looking up from the mug to meet Mando’s gaze.

“I never said it was.”

You just stare at him wordlessly, trying to figure out why he made you hot chocolate when it’s not going to make you any more functional. You have no idea how long you sit there thinking, too far gone to even understand the concept of time right now, but it must be a while because he breaks the silence first with a sigh.

“Cyar’ika, you have to stop drinking that crap. It’s not good for you.”

“Need it,” you respond, almost too quickly considering how long it took you to answer him before. Apparently the only thing you can understand in this groggy fog is your caf addiction. “Gonna fall asleep if not.”

“You’re about to anyway. Come on, you need to sleep.”

For some reason you giggle at that, unable to stop the laughter rising through your chest. He’s right, of course, but it just seems so damn funny right now that Mando, who has told you he rarely sleeps when he’s away, who you’ve never seen rest for more than an hour at a time, is telling you that you’re the one that needs sleep.

“You sleep even less than me, Mando. You can’t talk,” you accuse.

He jerks his helmet back in something like disbelief, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling again.

“Well I’m not the one falling asleep on the floor right now,” he counters.

“That’s fair,” you admit. You take a few more sips of the hot chocolate, closing your eyes in pleasure as the warmth floods your veins. Maybe it’s just because you’re so used to the sharp bite of caf, but the sugary drink feels so good, like something comforting and familiar though you can’t quite place your finger on where you recognize it from. It’s almost like you’re wrapped up in the thickest blanket or, even better, by strong arms as you’re lulled to sleep, and you’re not sure that’s what you were thinking of, but you realize that’s exactly what you want right now. 

And then your stupid, half-conscious brain decides to ask for it in the worst way possible.

“How about this, I’ll sleep if you sleep with me.”

You only catch how kriffing suggestive it sounds as the words come tumbling out of your mouth, but then all at once, you’re utterly aware of how much you’ve been embarrassing yourself. First getting caught falling asleep on the job and then accidentally making a very blunt pass at your boss, and Maker, you’re just a whole ass mess today aren’t you? Suddenly you feel very awake, your eyes going wide as you stumble over your words trying to backtrack as quickly as possible.

“Oh stars, I didn’t mean sleep with me, that’s definitely not what I, well, not that I wouldn’t…no, I just- I do need sleep but so do you, even if you’re not actually falling asleep right now, so I was just gonna say that we should both-”

But then your rambling is cut off by a chuckle coming from the modulator, his voice light and playful in a way you’ve never heard before.

If you weren’t so kriffing worried about what he was thinking about you right now, you might’ve thought it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“I know what you meant, cyar’ika,” he says. 

Oh, thank Maker, you think, waves of something like relief washing warm over your body. You’re not quite sure how he can understand what it is you want when you can’t even articulate it yourself, but your brain is still too foggy to care, deciding it doesn’t really matter how he knows you so well, just that he does.

Mando eases the mug from your hands, the worn leather of his gloves brushing lightly over your knuckles. You whine in protest as he steals the liquid comfort from your fingers, but it’s quickly replaced by his hands wrapping around yours to help you off the ground.

“I’ll make you more tomorrow,” he assures you, his voice as velvety as the drink he just took from your grasp. “But now, we need to sleep.”

We, not you. 

You barely catch the distinction as he leads you to the bunk while his thumb rubs soothing circles on your lower back, but it just leaves you even more confused in your sleepy daze. You didn’t think he was actually going to entertain your suggestion, even if he did take it in the more innocent way, and when you crawl into the bunk and he doesn’t follow, you think maybe you just misheard him.

But as you close your eyes, your exhaustion starting to pull you away from reality again, you hear the clang of metal on metal behind you, and a gentle tap on your calf halts your descent into the stillness of sleep as Mando climbs into the bunk next to you.

It’s only after he shuts the door, when your body is pressed to his so you both fit in the tiny space, that you realize he’s taken his armor off, the first time he’s ever done so in front of you. You can’t see him at all in the darkness of the bunk, you’re not sure you could even open your eyes again at this point anyway, but even in your delirium you can grasp the weight of how vulnerable he’s making himself right now, letting you run your fingers lazily across the tight muscles of his bicep and rest your head against his broad chest.

And once again, you’re overcome by the feeling of something pleasant and vaguely familiar, your heart swelling the same way it did when you first saw Mando and the child this morning, the same warmth in your veins as the first sip of hot chocolate. You couldn’t quite place it before, but for some reason, as you listen to the way his heart beats strong and steady against you, you think you finally recognize it, the way Mando’s been making you feel all day, the reason he knew exactly what you needed before you could even realize it yourself.

It’s just a hazy flash in the moment before the black hole of sleep finally consumes you, an inkling of a breakthrough you may or not remember tomorrow, but you think this feeling, the acrid taste of caf replaced by smooth chocolate on your tongue, a strong body turned soft as it’s molded to yours, has a four letter name you thought you and Mando only saved for the child.

Maybe that’s why you’re learning to use it for each other too.

[drabbles-mc]

Adrenaline Rush

Kozik x OFC

Request by Anon: Hulloo there, may I get a sort of all sons x female reader, but mainly Kozik x female reader, where the clubhouse gets hit, and one of the guys gets hit - and they need something to stop the blood flow, so reader takes off her shirt to reveal her sports bra and ripped abs so that the wound can be attended while they wait for Tara, and the boys are like - damn, and when reader goes to get another shirt, Kozik follows and some form of smut ensues?

Warnings: language, blood, injuries, unprotected sex, brief mentions of bodily fluids

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I didn’t do a reader insert for this because I try not to describe and particular kind of body-type for the sake of inclusivity. I know I never really made a point to mention that explicitly, but yea. So I just switched it up and changed it to an OFC, hope that’s okay! This was also my first time writing for Kozik, so hopefully it came out alright! Enjoy xo

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The clubhouse was nothing but chaos. It had never been a place associated with calm, but with everything that the MC had been getting themselves into lately it had been a bit more of a hotbed than usual. It all came to a head when a rival MC rolled up and opened fire on the clubhouse one night.

The gunshots were deafening, and bullets were flying everywhere. Before she even fully registered what was happening, she was getting shoved to the floor, pinned underneath someone else’s body in an attempt to keep her safe. Her head smacked off the hardwood and everything went fuzzy for a minute, but there was so much going on that she wasn’t sure that she would’ve been able to keep up with it anyhow.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. It could’ve been seconds or hours that she was trapped underneath the weight of another body. The first thing that felt clear to her, though, was the loss of the weight on top of her when they rolled off. They crouched down next to her in the silence that followed the bullets, shaking her shoulder.

“Alli? Hey, Alessia,” they lightly tapped the side of her face, “You with me?”

She knew the voice sounded familiar but her brain still felt too scrambled to place it as she forced herself up, nodding her head as she tried to regain her bearings, “I’m here.”

She shut her eyes tight for a few moments before reopening them, hoping that it would make things come in a little clearer. She was rewarded with being able to see who it was that had tackled her to the ground, most likely saving her life in the process. One end of his mouth kicked up in a smile when she looked at him, glad that she was conscious and seemingly unscathed, but she could still see the concern pooling in his eyes.

“You okay?”

She nodded, “I’m good. Fine. You?”

“I’m fine. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t break you.”

He stood up and held his hand out and pulled her up to her feet. She stumbled a step and collided with his chest. In a calmer moment they might’ve let it linger, but there was too much to think about. She stepped back and shook it off as she looked around the clubhouse.

“We whole?” she glanced over at Kozik.

“I don’t—”

“No!” Jax’s voice cut through the rest of the dull noise of the clubhouse.

Alessia and Kozik glanced at each other for a moment before quickly making their way over to the chapel. They both looked at Jax as they walked, seeing the way that he was clinging to his own arm, face contorted in pain. He saw their looks of concern and shook his head, nodding towards the table. They pushed their through the small crowd of people and were met with the sigh of Juice laying on the table, blood gushing from his leg.

“You call Tara?” Alessia glanced back over at Jax.

He nodded, “She’s on her way.”

“Fuck,” Juice groaned, writhing in pain on the table.

“Stop moving,” Alessia’s voice was firm as she tried to get her thoughts in order.

She was no Tara—she didn’t have any kind of medical degree or professional training. But she’d been around the MC long enough to pick up some practical first aid. She’d MacGyver’d her way through more than a few injuries for herself and for the members of the club. She just had to figure out how to keep him alive until Tara could get there to do the heavy lifting. He was losing blood fast and she was just hoping that the bullet didn’t hit an artery.

“Shit,” she pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, “Alright.”

She peeled her tank top off over her head and folded it into a long, thin rectangle, her fingers moving quickly and methodically. All of her focus was on the task at hand. She didn’t even realize that she’d drawn the attention of more than a few hungry, wandering eyes as she stood there in her sports bra and jeans.

She glanced over at Kozik, “Belt.”

He’d been too busy staring at her, allowing his eyes to rake over her chest and abs to hear what she’d said, “Wh-what?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed to the buckle, “Your belt. Now. Please.”

Her voice had so much authority to it that he instantly started undoing his belt without questioning it. He had no idea what she would need it for, but at that point he really didn’t care. He slid it out of the loops of his jeans and handed it over to her. She laid her shirt over the wound, pressing down hard on it to give it some pressure. Juice tensed up and cursed loudly. Her apology was passive as she slid the belt around his thigh.

“It’s gonna get worse before it gets better,” she warned him as she got ready to pull the belt tight, “But it’s better than bleeding out in church, yea?”

Juice nodded, already clenching his fists in anticipation, “Yea. Just…just do it.”

They each took a deep breath. Her eyes were on his legs and his eyes were on her. She pulled on the leather strap, tightening it as best she could around his thigh. Juice clenched his jaw tight and did his best to stifle the groan of pain that was fighting to escape past his lips. There were a few moments of utter silence as they all waited to see if her makeshift solution was going to staunch the blood flow at all, let alone enough to buy enough time for Tara to come in and do damage control.

Her split-second decision-making paid off. The blood stopped flowing. It wasn’t going to be a long-term fix, but she figured that Tara couldn’t be far at this point. She looked over the rest of his body, making sure that nothing else needed to be taken care of. He looked a little pale, and extremely tired.

“Need anything else?” she asked.

Juice shook his head, resting it back on the table, “Just a fucking doctor.”

She chuckled, “We’re working on it,” she sighed, running her hands down her face, “You owe me a shirt and I’m about to collect,” she smiled, “Consider it your medical bill.”

“Done,” despite the pain shooting through him, Juice managed a laugh, “Top drawer in my dorm.”

“You’re a gem, Juicy,” she called back as she walked out of chapel towards the dorms.

The men all watched her walk away. It took him a few moments to snap back to reality, but once he did Kozik was hot on her heels. He caught up to her in a few long strides as she was about to push Juice’s door open. She heard him behind her but didn’t say anything, mind still reeling from everything the day had already entailed.

“That was, um, impressive,” he said as you started to walk over to Juice’s dresser.

“We do what we gotta do, right?”

“Right.”

She turned around to face him once she had found a shirt that she wanted to take as her own. Surprise was written all over her face when she saw the way that Kozik was looking at her. She felt the heat beginning to rise in her face, but she tried not to let it show that his stare was getting to her. Despite the fact that he was looking at her with nothing but admiration, Alessia found herself wanting to quickly pull her fresh shirt down over her head to cover herself up.

When she went to lift it up, though, he stepped in to stop her. He pushed the shirt down, taking it in his own hands, “Don’t.”

She watched him as he discarded the shirt, tossing it over onto Juice’s bed. Once his hands were free, they instantly found their way to her sides, running all over her exposed skin as he pulled her closer to him. She wanted to blame the fact that she wasn’t playing hard to get on the adrenaline of the day, and the fact that he had definitely saved her life only a few minutes before. But she knew in the back of her mind that this had been building for a while. There was a reason that he jumped to make sure she was okay before anyone else.

Before she could overthink it, she put her hands on the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. He immediately pushed and leaned into her, hands roaming all over her, grabbing whatever he could hold onto. She bit down on his bottom lip and he let out a low moan as his mouth continued to move against hers. Her hands snaked up into his hair and gave it a light tug.

He quickly wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, prompting her to wrap her legs around his waist. With ease he carried her over towards the bed, not taking his lips off of hers.

Just as he was about to lay her down, she pulled away from him, “In here?”

“What?” he smirked, “Not like he’s going to be using it anytime soon.”

She laughed, “C’mon, he almost died today. Don’t need to disrespect his room, too.”

“You saved his life! Least he could do to repay you,” he laughed as he kissed along her neck.

She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. She shook her head slightly but didn’t protest any further as she let him gently lay her down on the bed. He made quick work of pulling off her shoes and jeans. She couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face as he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself over her. His lips crashed back into hers as his hands ran down the toned lines of her stomach, making her shiver.

Alessia reached down and undid the button and zipper on his pants. She could feel the rumble inside his chest as he tried to contain the laugh building up inside him. He pulled his lips off of hers to push his pants down the rest of the way, a smirk etched into his expression. He peeled his shirt off as well and threw it to the floor.

She hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him as close as he would let her. He kissed her, biting down onto her bottom lip as he slowly slid inside her. She tried to stifle her moans but it wasn’t any use. Her legs shook and trembled and she knew that it was no longer just from the adrenaline of the day.

His fingertips dug into her thighs as he thrusted into her. She tilted her head back, letting out a moan, and he took that moment to bite down on the soft, sensitive skin of her neck. She tangled her fingers into his hair and held him there, not wanting to give up the sensation.

“Fuck,” she breathed, “Don’t stop.”

Stopping was the absolute last thing on his mind. He felt the way that her nails set into his back, the way that her body tensed around him, and it only encouraged him to keep going. He increased his pace and let out a low moan as her nails raked down his back. She bit down onto his shoulder, attempting to muffle her screams as she came. His nails dug into her sides as he felt him bite down onto him. It sent a brief jolt of pain through him but he loved it. He cursed quietly under his breath as he approached his own release, pulling out of her right before he did so.

He collapsed next to her on the bed, looking over at her as they both attempted to catch their breath. She glanced over at him and when her eyes caught his, they both couldn’t help but to break into laughter. She ran her hands down her face, wiping away the sweat. Kozik carefully got up and went to grab his boxers and jeans.

“Let me get something to for you to clean yourself up with,” he chuckled as he glanced around the room.

“Time for you to give up your shirt for the cause, Kozik,” she laughed as she propped herself up on her elbows.

“What? No, Alli, c’mon, please,” he laughed as he picked his shirt up off the floor, “Don’t do this.”

She held her hand out, “Hand it over. Time to pay your dues,” she laughed as he threw the shirt at her, “Besides, you’ve got other clothes here anyway. What’s the big deal?”

She threw it back at him after she had wiped herself off, shaking her head with a smile as he dodged it, carefully choosing where to pick it up off the ground from. She set about getting her underwear and jeans back on, and finally pulling on the shirt that she had decided to borrow from Juice.

The two of them stood in the middle of Juice’s room. Alessia was redoing her pony tail, and Kozik couldn’t help but to stand there and watch with admiration. She could see him looking at her out of the corner of her eye and made a point to not comment on it.

“Y’know,” she looked at herself in the mirror with a chuckle, “I might be onto something here. I look good in Juice’s clothes.”

Kozik laughed and shook his head, “You look better than he does, for sure.”

The two of them slowly made their way out of the room. They looked at each other for a moment, each with a small smile on their face, before heading off in different directions. Alessia made her way back towards the chapel to see if there was anything else to be done, or if Tara had shown up yet, and Kozik headed back towards his own space to get himself a fresh shirt. As she walked away, she could feel his fingers trace lightly along her lower back for a moment before she had stepped out of reach. She shook her head slightly and tried to contain her smile as she headed back into the chaos.

[mandoalorian]

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 3

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Eventual smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - more tension and also male and female masturbation

Author’s note: Chapter 3 wheyyy! I'm super sick at the minute, but nevertheless I hope my illness isn't reflected in this piece of writing. Yikes. I hope everyone is enjoying so far! Remember if you wanted to be added to my taglist feel free to let me know!

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUESTS

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER THREE - NEXT 

The rain drops pelted heavy against your skin as the cool winter ambience sent a shiver down your spine. Once dismissed by Maxwell Lord, you practically raced out of the building. The contrast between the heat you felt in his presence and the December air was immeasurable. You took a big gasp of air, letting rain drops fall on your face and soak through your clothes. You stood there in the middle of the busy street trying to process what just happened.

You had been successful. Your elaborate plan had worked out and you had gotten the job. Only, it was unlike anything you had ever done before. Maxwell told you to expect a call sometime tomorrow and before you left, he made sure you were comfortable with the prospect of his job offer. First things first— tell Tristan the good news. Hopefully then, he would let you stay in your apartment a little while longer.

Before you could grab a ride from a cabbie, the doorman tapped you on the shoulder. "Ms Minerva?" His tone was completely different than earlier, more polite and friendly. "Ma'am? Mr Lord has requested his driver take you home. He didn't want you to get wet in the rain but," the doorman looked you up and down. "I see you're already drenched from this God foresaken rain. I’m Andreas, by the way."

Maxwell had asked his own, personal driver to take you home? You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach from his kind gesture, but you worried about the authenticity of it. How genuine was he? Maxwell Lord was someone who built up his reputation and business on lies and false hope.

"Oh really, that's quite alright," you dismissed the offer. "I can just get a cab."

Andreas put his hand out, halting you from walking away. "I'm afraid Mr Lord insists." He told you, taking out a sleek black umbrella and opening it up. He held it above you, protecting you from the rain.

"Could you tell Mr Lord that I'm grateful for his offer, but I can make my own way home?" You said through gritted teeth.

"I'm afraid not," Andreas said with a short shake of his head. "Whatever Mr Lord wants, Mr Lord gets."

So that's how it was going to be.

Before you could reply, a black limousine with tinted windows pulled up on the road in front of you. A few passer-bys on the street, hands full of their Christmas shopping, shot you a strange glance as you slipped into the car. Andreas shut the door behind you and suddenly you found yourself sitting in a car that probably had more worth than your entire life’s savings.

The seats were sleek and black leather, the floor was carpeted and you spotted a small ice cooler by your sofa seat. You carefully clicked it open and examined the insides. It was just various bottles of alcohol- mostly spirits. You couldn’t help but smile as you continued to explore the limousine.

Upon meeting him, Maxwell Lord was not what you expected, but now you had found the perfect opportunity to learn more about him. You spotted a velveteen box nailed to the floor so you opened it up and found a variety of odd things. It was like a rich man’s junk drawer. Everything from gold fountain pens, jewellery, condoms, multiple checkbooks were mixed inside this box. Nosily, you scurried through it all, taking out the occasional item and examining it closer. You couldn’t believe it. You had never met someone who was just able to leave such expensive items lying around in a random box inside their own limousine.

This whole experience felt like a fever dream.

The lights in the limousine were dimmed and so you searched around for a switch or button of some kind to brighten the interior of the car. Your fingers tapped into a switch and rainbow disco lights flickered on, illuminating the limousine multi-colour. It looked more like a party bus. You didn't even realise the driver had already got into the car and as he turned on the ignition and began to drive, you jolted and fell back at the sudden force, into the plush leather seat. You scrambled to belt yourself up and compose yourself.

"Ma'am, where will I be taking you?" the driver called from the front of the limousine, as he tried to navigate through the busy Christmas roads of DC. You yelled your address back to him and he made a brief sound of acknowledgement.

After a few moments of sitting in still silence, despite the rainbow disco lights beginning to give you a headache, you heard a buzzing noise. You scrambled around in your seat, looking for where the noise originated from, when you found a phone nailed to the wall of the limo. Maxwell Lord’s limo had its own carphone! Of course it did.

Your eyes widened when you realised it was ringing and you contemplated answering it. It could be anyone! It could be someone important or a business related matter. It could be private. Thoughts raced through your mind as the phone continued to buzz.

"Are you going to get that?" The driver called out again.

You took a deep breath and took the phone off the hook, nudging it between your ear and your neck. "H-hello?" you asked, your finger anxiously twirling in the wire connecting the phone and the dock.

"Apologies for calling so early on, I usually wait a few days before calling back my female suitors," you weren't sure if your heart rate eased or increased when you heard Maxwell's voice. His voice sounded easy-going, and you were sure you even heard him chuckle slightly at his own remark. "I trust you weren't made uncomfortable by Andreas insisting you got a ride home."

"I have to admit, Mr Lord, I don't usually get into cars with strangers." you huffed, squeezing your eyes tight shut.

"Smart," Maxwell replied quickly. "So why did you this time?" His voice was dark and had a lulling undertone. He sounded similar to when he saw you during the interview earlier on, and the memory made that familiar heat erupt once more in your stomach.

You struggled to find your words. "I- I uhm-" you weren't exactly sure why you had agreed to Andreas. You would've never agreed to such a proposition before. But this is what Maxwell Lord wanted. And you didn't dare want to disappoint Maxwell Lord. You didn't understand because you didn't even know the man— nor did you have any care about him whatsoever prior to your meeting today. But since you exchanged those words in his office, you had been feeling a certain kind of way. "I trust you." you admitted with a defeated sigh. It was true. You trusted a man you had barely even spent half-an-hour with. You trusted a man who built his business on lying to the people of the world.

On the other end of the line, Maxwell was smiling to himself. His feet were on his desk and he was nursing a glass of his favourite whiskey. He could never tell you, but he craved to hear your voice again. He was already thinking about the next time he could see you. He put the glass down on his desk and with his free hand, palmed at his hardening manhood.

"I'm glad," Maxwell replied smoothly. "Trust is going to be very important in our kind of arrangement." There was a beat. "Speaking of which, would you owe me the pleasure in accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?"

"D-dinner?" you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up. Dinner with Maxwell Lord— this is not how you thought today would go. Sitting in a limousine and being asked out by the cover boy of Forbes magazine.

"I know a really nice restaurant by the river. Black-tie dress code type thing." His voice was like silk. It was getting hot in the limousine. You needed air. The thought of him taking you out for dinner at a restaurant, having a nice meal and enjoying his company felt like a dream. Then you were hit with the reality of your financial situation.

"Oh Mr Lord, I'm sure it's lovely but I don't think I can afford-"

"I think you're forgetting the terms of our arrangement darling," Maxwell snickered on the other end of the line. It was true— you had. For a moment you thought it would be a normal date. But this wasn't a relationship. He was right, it was an arrangement. "What I have, is yours. You are to want for nothing."

There was something romantic about his sentiment, you once again found yourself forgetting the true nature of his words. "Well then," you gulped."Dinner sounds great."

Maxwell's smile grew wider. "And then back to my place." his invitation sounded more like a command than a question, and the authority in his voice was enough to get your panties wet. You pursed your lips together to suppress a moan at the thought of going back to his house. You wondered what it would be like. Would your arrangement commence tomorrow night?

"I'd really like that." you let out a shaky exhale. Your hand dropped in between your legs and you slowly began to touch yourself through the thick material of your denim jeans. You ached to get home and take them off. There was something that felt so naughty about getting off in the car of a man you had just met. Especially when that man was Maxwell Lord.

Maxwell felt the same. He had intended to take you back to his place to go through a contract and discuss the specifics of your arrangement— but if the night led to something else, he certainly wouldn't be opposed. You were driving him wild; like no other woman had ever. He unzipped his pants and slipped his hand under his boxer shorts, slowly beginning to pump his length while holding the phone in the crook of his neck.

"You- you have something pretty to wear?" he asked, trying to remain as composed as possible.

"Maybe, maybe just my little black dress." you whispered in response, pressing your forehead against the cold window to try and release some tension.

Your description left much to the imagination, but Maxwell wasn't complaining. He wondered about the black dress: how short it was, exactly? How did it fit you? Did it accentuate his favourite parts of your body? Maxwell's eyes fluttered shut as he carried on stroking his length, a small grunt escaping his lips. It didn't go unnoticed by you.

"I'll have my driver pick you up tomorrow evening," Maxwell hummed. "6pm."

You couldn't even reply— he already put the phone down. Maxwell slouched back into his chair and worked at his already hard length. His thumb swept the precum that beaded at his tip and he continued pumping, wishing that the wetness around him was from your mouth as you devoured him.

He imagined your pretty lips suck him and his cock began to throb in his hands. He imagined having to push your hair out of the way so he could get a good look of your face whilst you took him in your mouth. He imagined your eyes wide and your cheeks hollowed as you fit him inside of you. He wanted to fuck your mouth, wanted to make you gag and have your saliva make a mess all over him.

Maxwell gasped as he spilt his seed all over his tailored suit pants. He kept his sensitive cock in his hand for a few moments after, feeling it soften. He wanted to soften inside of you. Already, he was enamoured by you. Desperate to feel your touch, your wetness. Desperate to hear your screams of pleasure.

When you got home, you had planned on seeing Tristan, alerting him of the good news. New job. Then maybe, he'd let you live in your apartment just a little bit longer until you could afford rent. You decided he could wait until tomorrow. Hurrying into your small flat you locked yourself in the bathroom and turned on the shower.

You discarded your clothes, letting them pool into a puddle on the floor. In your frenzy, you had forgotten to open a window, so the steam from the hot water warmed your skin and small beads of sweat drew along your collarbones and chest as you ran your hands over your body. You bit your lip, hard, remembering the image of Maxwell's hands in the office which you had so carefully ingrained into your head.

You thought about his thick hands squeezing your tits, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your nipples and pinching hard enough to make you squeal. You wondered how his touch felt. You imagined him rough, and ruthless, but since meeting him today, and the way he diverted all your expectations, you wondered if he would have any surprises up his sleeve for your time in the bedroom. You let your fingers gently trace the skin of your stomach, a feather light touch that tickled slightly. You closed your eyes, imagining the wealthy CEO stood behind you, arms wrapped around your naked body and planting sloppy wet kisses into the crook of your neck.

With complete certainty, neither you or Maxwell could stop thinking about each other. Maxwell wanted to call you over in the dead of night when he couldn't sleep. His body ached for you. He felt a neediness that he had never felt before. Of course he could just call one of his assistants. He paid them enough, they would be able to come over and satisfy him (to some extent), but the problem was, they weren't you.

You had done something to him, and now nobody else could even begin to compare to you. You consumed his every thought. Maxwell had once almost married a rival CEO. He was meant to be in love with her but… the feelings were not the same as this. The feelings he felt for you were far beyond lust, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly they were. He cursed himself, feeling frustrated. This wasn't him. But he was completely and utterly whipped on you.

And you weren't much different. You swore you were in love with Tristan. You had been in an on and off relationship with him for two years but once again, the feelings you had for him were so different to the feelings you now possessed for Maxwell. It was indescribable. You wrecked your room, trying to find the perfect shoes and accessories to wear with your promised little black dress. You wanted to be perfect. You wanted to look perfect. And it was all for Maxwell.

He had you whipped, and you hated him for it.

You lived your life wanting to only impress yourself. You didn't think twice about the way men felt about you. It never mattered. But this was Maxwell Lord. Everything was just different.

So when your 'date' finally came around, you were both equally bursting with anticipation.

When you slid in the back of the limousine, Maxwell couldn't keep his eyes from you. His gaze was glued onto your amazing figure which he loved so much, and the way your little black dress clung to your body and accentuated all your perfections. Your little diamond earrings sparkled under the car's dim light and there was something so beautiful about the simplicity of it.

Truth be told, Maxwell Lord was nervous. He didn't date. He couldn't remember the last time he went on a proper date (he wasn't even sure if you classed this outing as a date). He wasn't one for relationships either. Hell, a woman could count herself lucky if she lasted a week with him. He liked the spontinuity of fucking different women, no strings attached. Throwing them away like garbage the second he got bored. He had the power to do that. It was just the way he was and he had no intentions of that changing.

Although, maybe his intentions were slowly changing and he hadn't yet realised. You offered him the kindest smile he had ever seen, your eyes glistening like jewels. And oh, he felt his cheeks warm up. He leaned over to the window on his side and pressed his face against it, the cool winter air calming his nerves. When your fingers graced the material of his tailored suit pants, just over his thigh, he swore his heart stopped.

"You look nice." you beamed at him, your heart blooming when he finally turned and his brown eyes met yours. You didn't expect Maxwell Lord to disappoint, in any sense, but especially not when it came to fashion. The power suit he was wearing was practically dripping in wealth, and you were almost certain every inch of him was wearing designer names from his suit jacket to his gold cufflinks in his shirt.

"So do you." Maxwell returned the compliment, gawking as he took in your exquisite form. You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze and you awkwardly looked down at your match black heels, scraping them against the carpeted floor of the limousine. "That dress- I saw it in Louis Vuitton last year?" Maxwell pointed out and you looked down, reacquainting yourself with the outfit you had chosen to wear.

"This? Oh no no," you chuckled earnestly. "I got this from the thrift store for seven dollars like a month ago."

You regretted those words as soon as they left your lips. You did not just admit to Maxwell Lord that you had bought the dress he had been so enthralled in, from the moment you entered the limo, second hand. To your surprise, he gave you a toothy grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight and that adorable little dimple appearing in his left cheek.

"We're here," he announced as the driver pulled up on the side of the road. You gazed out the window in awe. The whole street was lit up in gold Christmas fairy lights, and the restaurant that Maxwell had selected, was highlighted with tinsel and a huge Christmas tree in the front window.

"Wow," you couldn't help but whisper at the gorgeous view. You hadn't even realised Maxwell had already slipped out the car and opened your side door for you. He held his hand out for you, and of course you grabbed it. His hands were soft and warm… he definitely moisturized. He helped you out of the limo and shut the door behind you, sliding an arm around your waist as he guided you into the restaurant.

"Be careful not to slip on the black ice." he warned as he helped you slowly walk in your heels. Still hand in hand, you looked up at him with the biggest smile. You hadn't felt a happiness like this in a long time. He didn't look at you back, instead of focusing on successfully navigating inside the restaurant without falling over.

The restaurant was empty. Not a soul in sight. Your eyes snapped to Maxwell, waiting for him to give you an explanation. He caught on, offering you a small and understanding nod.

"I rented the restaurant out." He explained, raising an eyebrow as he examined his surroundings. Your gaze followed his as you took in the merrily strung Christmas lights and the beautifully decorated tree by the front bay window.

"Why would you do that?" You quizzed him.

"You never know who is sitting among us," he explained. "Journalists, paparazzi, crazed fans."

Ah, there it was. The part about Maxwell you had completely forgotten about. He was famous. Everyone in the world knew who he was and if you had known anything about Maxwell before meeting him, it was that the tabloids loved to pry into his personal life. So, you were somewhat understanding. But that didn't stop the devastating feeling of your heart sinking into your chest. He wanted to hide you. It made sense, I mean, you had only just met and you were only his sugar baby, but it still hurt. You done your best to ignore the strange feelings and told yourself you could still have a good night with him. But the thoughts didn't escape your mind.

You and Maxwell were ushered to a seat by a lit fireplace and passed menus by a beaming waiter. "Can I get you a drink while you decide on what to eat?" he asked with an enthusiastic smile.

"Just a bottle of your finest champagne with two glasses," Maxwell replied, not even looking at the waiter but flicking his wrist and gesturing for him to scurry away. The waiter left both of you in a frenzy, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Is something funny?" Maxwell prompted you, raising an eyebrow. You pursed your lips again but shook your head 'no'. Maxwell's eyes flicked back down to the menu and you burst into another fit of giggles. "Seriously, what is it?" Maxwell asked sternly and you straightened your posture, taking a deep breath and trying to compose yourself.

"That poor waiter looked so afraid of you." You admitted quietly. Maxwell shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal.

"A lot of people are afraid of me."

"Why?" you beckoned, leaning closer to him.

Maxwell hesitated and put his menu down. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"A lot of people used to be afraid of my mother," Maxwell admitted. "I'm afraid I'm going to end up like her."

"Why were they afraid of your mother?" you questioned him, thanking the waiter as he promptly brought you the two glasses and bottle of ice cold champagne. You began to pour it out.

"She was so cold. Bitter… heartless…" Maxwell scowled, quickly taking a glass of champagne and downing it in one quick gulp. "I worry that, maybe, others perceive me in the same light as they perceive my mother."

"That they think you're cold, bitter and heartless?" you quizzed, and Maxwell winced at your words. He didn't reply, instead buried his gaze into the cream coloured table cloth.

You extended your arms and reached out, taking hold of his soft ring clad hands. Maxwell's breathing hitched under your touch. You noticed the way his hands were considerably larger than yours but even still, you rubbed comforting circles into his skin with your thumb. He interlocked his fingers with yours and you offered him a warm smile. "I don't think you're cold, bitter and heartless."

Maxwell sighed. "You don't know me."

"I see the warmth in your eyes," you whispered. "I know there's more to you than meets the eye."

Taglist: if you want to be added let me know! (if your name is crossed out it means I can't tag you)

December Magic: @kiwi-the-first​ @100layersofdaddyissues​ @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-wayson​ @this-cat-is-dea​ @blonde2bomshell

Permanent: @goth-topic ​ @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria ​ @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl

[stayextrafrosty]

Keep Me in Your Memories

Request: Fluffy/comfort Patrick Stump x reader? The reader somehow hurts themselves and has a bought of amnesia which throws Patrick, but he does everything he can to jog the readers memory. I hope you're doing well! Much love to you!

A/N: This ended up taking a week and a half instead of four days but here it is! Thanks for the request!

And if you haven’t heard the song “Lullaby,” look HERE

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

When they say it happens in less than a second, they really weren’t kidding. The doctor said I have brain damage, but I feel fine. I never saw the car, just a flash of light and then nothing. They said I was conscious when they pulled me from the wreckage but that’s all that’s missing.

I’m twenty-seven. Have a job I adore. Own a small house with my best friend.

I was on my way to visit her, Kris, at work. She hadn’t stopped by yet but the doctors did say she called. I felt awful. I was supposed to be dropping off her house key. The doctors said I’d been in and out for a day or so but that means she couldn’t get into the house last night after work.

A light tap on my door pulled me from my daydreaming. A nurse smiled at me as she walked in, pushing a cart of food. It looked like some kind of sandwich but I couldn’t identify the meat.

“Hey, how are you feeling? It’s ham for lunch. I even snagged an extra cup of applesauce.” I smiled gratefully at her. I was starving. The nausea from this morning had subsided.

“I’m alright. Excited to finally eat something,” I chuckled. She moved the swiveling table over my lap, setting the plate and utensils down.

“Let me just double check some vitals and then I can leave you be,” she said, taking my arm. I nodded and laid back. She took my blood pressure and felt around my neck. “Any headache?” I thought about it before shaking my head.

“That’s progress but you still have a concussion. Whenever they let you out, be sure to take it easy for a while. No contact sports for example,” she advised. I couldn’t hold back my chuckle.

“Please, the last time I played something that could be considered a ‘contact sport,’ I was a sophomore in high school.” She smiled and chuckled along with me. She continued her work silently as I stared at the ceiling.

A quick rapping at the door and another nurse speaking made me jump. She held onto the arm of a man. He looked scared and even from here I could see the wetness glossing over his eyes behind his glasses. Whoever he was here for was incredibly lucky. To have someone care about them that much.

His dirty blonde hair was messy, like he had run his fingers through it repeatedly. He looked familiar though I couldn’t place it. A leather jacket over a t-shirt with black jeans and high-tops. Must be the wrong room.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the two of them arguing quietly. She whispered something in his ear and I watched his eyebrows draw together and he glanced toward me. Relief washed over his features as he moved toward me slowly.

Wait a minute… who is this?

“Y/N, god you’re ok. I came as soon as I could. I was in a session with the guys and you know how Pete can get. I’m so sorry” He stopped next to my bed, taking my hand in his. My eyes darted between him and the nurse that had come in with him. The nurse taking my vitals rested a hand on his shoulder, tugging him back from me slightly.

“Looks like you have a visitor. Do you remember him,” she asked gently? I looked over him again, studying his face. Familiar but not enough to say I knew him.

“Um… no. I’m sorry. Who are you?” The pain that flashed across his face made me want to eat my words. I didn’t know him but god I wish I did. Anything to make him smile. I bet it would be beautiful.

He didn’t drop my hand but instead rubbed his thumb over the skin. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that for me. My shoulders released all their tension.

“I’m Patrick, your boyfriend. Kris called me. She should be here soon.” My mouth hung open slightly. I wracked my brain. Kris called him? I didn’t think he was lying but…

“The crash caused a concussion and some minor brain damage. She wasn’t hit head on so we think her memory could return but it may take time.” The room fell silent as he and I processed. His thumb still ran over the back of my hand, and he gave no indication that he would let go.

“Maybe you should wait outside until Kris gets here,” the nurse that came in with him said. Patrick’s gaze finally left my face to look back at her. “I only say this because if she’s as confused as she looks then it might be best to wait for someone she recognizes.”

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze but laid it back on the bed. He smiled sadly at me and moved toward the door. I reached for him, not fully understanding why. I just knew it felt nice to have him with me.

“Wait,” I rushed out. He paused and looked back at me. “You don’t have to go… It can get pretty lonely,” I said, trying to smile. He blinked a couple times. The nurses shared a look but didn’t push him out. He pulled a chair next to my bed, though he didn’t take my hand again.

“We’ll be just a button push away if you need anything,” one of the nurses said, glancing at Patrick. I nodded and they left.

The silence was awkward at first. I had asked him to stay but didn’t have a clue what to talk about. He said he’s my boyfriend so I should feel comfortable with him. Safe. And I do but there’s another feeling. Awe, maybe?

“You say you’re my boyfriend,” I started hesitantly. “You called me by my name earlier so clearly you know me. But there’s something else right? I feel like I recognize you but not in a personal way; if that makes sense.” His head tilted and he smiled at me, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“Um, well you might know me as a singer from a band. It’s sort of well known,” he said, wringing his hands together. I stared at him. A band? I chucked at his vagueness.

“Want to tell me the name of said band or no?” I grinned as he looked around the room. “Oh I see.” His eyes met mine again. “You want me to guess? Well give me sample. Serenade me,” I joked. He snorted and laughed with me.

This was nice. Easy. If we were really dating, I could tell why. As much as I hate the term, he was totally my type. He reached for my hand again, seeming to hesitate before I turned my palm up. I wanted to hold his hand. It was calloused from what I assume was years of the guitar.

“What do you want to hear,” he asked? I thought for a moment.

“Something comforting. What would I listen to before bed?” He chuckled a little and scratched his head. I raised an eyebrow.

“You used to listen—” Loud footsteps sprinted down the hallway.

“Y/N! Holy shit I’m so sorry! God… are you ok?” Kris burst into the room, practically tackling me. She squeezed me as best she could, arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders. The bruises rejected the affection, sending pain shooting through my back and arms.

“OW! Kris, please…” She released me immediately, apologizing profusely. I took in her wrecked face. Blotchy and red. More tears already pooled in her eyes. “Oh, babe. I’m ok. Please don’t cry anymore,” I said, smiling at her. She shook her head before sitting heavily on my bed, grabbing my other hand.

We sat and talked over the events of the previous day. Patrick brought her up to speed on my amnesia. Amnesia that I feel like I don’t have. But Kris didn’t seem worried about him so I guess he’s telling the truth.

“Is any other part missing,” she asked me?

“Well if it is, I wouldn’t know. Almost like I can’t remember,” I said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to peak out.

The two of them spent the rest of the day with me. They asked questions, well… Kris asked questions… about what I could remember. Patrick sat quietly for the most part, injecting his thoughts when asked but mostly just rubbing my hand and shoulders. He never made a move to kiss me or anything, even though any boyfriend might. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss him.

The nurses came in every couple hours to check my vitals. Eventually the doctor came in with results from a scan to determine if I had a concussion. Long story short, I did. They told me that as long as I took it easy and came back in a week for a follow up, I could relax at home. I was cleared to leave the following day.

-

“Could you stop hitting every. Bump,” I complained from the back seat as another pothole jostled me around.

“Look, I’m doing my best ok. We’ll be home soon,” Kris responded. I hardly recognized the turns we were taking. More evidence of the – hopefully – short term amnesia. Patrick sat in the seat next to me, holding my hand again.

I rested my head on his shoulder, hoping that it would ease the nausea. He jumped slightly, though I didn’t call him out on it. He had kept himself at a distance. While I appreciated it, he didn’t have to. It was so easy to be comfortable around him. I wasn’t worried that he would hurt me.

We pulled into the driveway, my shoulders finally relaxing at the thought of crawling back into a bed. Kris hopped out of the car, rushing around to my door that I pushed open. I could walk by myself but they both stayed close.

I’m already sick of the overly cautious treatment.

I looked around the entry way, kicking my shoes off. It all felt familiar but my brain simply refused to remember the details. Which way was my room? Where were the pots in the kitchen? What channels were my shows on? It was like I remembered living here but never actually did.

The blue carpet was soft under my feet. I could see the tracks of where people usually walked. I followed them down a hall, peaking in doorways, trying to guess which spaces were mine.

The last room on the left stuck out to me. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I pushed the door open completely. One wall was black and accented with white flecks resembling stars and bright blues and greens twisting like the northern lights.

“Well at least you can still tell what room yours is,” Kris teased. I rolled my eyes, though she couldn’t see it. A guitar sat against the bed. I ran my hands over the wood before moving it to the empty stand closer to the wall.

I flopped down into the fuzzy blanket, regretting my decision immediately. The sudden stop jerked my arms, sending pain through my body. The doctors had said it was a miracle nothing was broken, but there was definitely some strain.

I hissed in a breath, curling into a ball and praying it would make the pain stop, squeezing my eyes shut. I felt a gentle hand on my back, rubbing up and down my spine.

“I’m here. I know it hurts. It’ll stop in a moment.” Patrick’s voice washed over me. And the pain did subside. I knew it would but him saying it made me want to think he chased it away.

I let out a breath, slowly unfurling myself. Patrick pulled my blanket back slowly, giving me time to maneuver and crawl under it. I let my eyes drift shut and he began to pet my hair. Kris said something about making food but I could hardly hear her. I was drifting.

I pulled my eyes open what felt like a moment later. Patrick was no longer petting my head but I could hear him humming to himself. The light coming through the window was a mix of orange and pink. Must have been at least a few hours.

I pushed myself up slowly, looking around. He was seated at a desk, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at me. Seeing that I was up, he set down his phone and came to sit on the bed next to me.

“Hey there. How do you feel?” As if on que, I yawned. He chuckled as I rubbed my eyes.

“Tired, I guess,” I joked.

“Well Kris made Mac and Cheese but you were already asleep. I can warm it up for you if you’d like?” I pushed myself into a sitting position.

“Maybe in a bit. What were you humming?” He gave a small smile, blush covering his cheeks.

“That song you wanted me to sing yesterday. Lullaby.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Seems fitting,” I wondered out loud. “Can you sing it for me now?”

“After you’ve already slept?”

“I want to see if it helps me remember you. It would be heartbreaking to see someone you care about forget you. I just want to fix it. You don’t deserve that.” I played with my fingers, wanting to reach for his hand.

Seeming to read my mind, Patrick grabbed my hand, though he didn’t stop there. I watched as he brought my hand to his lips, kissing the back of my fingers gently. His smile was beaming as he stood, grabbing the guitar from the stand. He fiddled with the tuning knobs.

“You are still one of the most considerate and loving people I have ever met. I could never say ‘no’ to you.” I felt the blush rise to my face, a small grin sneaking out. He started playing a simple tune, soft and relaxing. But when he started singing, I couldn’t fight the tears that came to my eyes.

“Honey is for bees, silly bear Besides, there's jellybeans everywhere It's not what it seems in the land of dreams Don't worry your head just go to sleep It doesn't matter how you feel Life is just a Ferris wheel It's always up and down Don't make a sound When you wake up the world will come around When you wake up the world will come around.”

I remembered. I remembered a similar situation. I had met him in a guitar shop when he was looking for something else. He convinced me to buy that guitar. He had played a few strings of this very song to show me how easy it was. I had butchered it completely but he never stopped working with me.

Patrick Stump of Fall Out Boy was giving me guitar lessons and seemed to be enjoying himself. He asked to see me again and we did.

I shook my head, tears slipping down my cheeks. There were still pieces missing. I could tell. But I knew him. I knew Patrick and he was still here. Playing for me just like the first day and I was crazy about him.

I reached out to touch his hand that held the neck of the guitar. He let the sound drift off before looking up at me. He took note of the tears running down my face and lifted his hand to wipe them away. I turned my face into his hand, kissing his palm.

“Patrick.” It was quiet but he heard me. He set the guitar down again and pulled me close, running his hands through my hair.

“Did you remember something,” he asked gently. I nodded against his shoulder.

“You played that song for me the day we met.” I felt his arms tighten around me and he pressed a kiss to my head. “It’s still fuzzy, but maybe if you play for me… I’ll start to remember.”

“Anything for you.” He pressed another kiss to my forehead.

We stayed like that for who knows how long. I think I dozed off again but Patrick never let me go.

[btswishes]

Love me for who I am now

Bucky x Reader ( Chapter 2 )

Previous / Next

Summary: You apply for the Stark internship and end up getting it, so now you have 5 months to make a good impression to continue working with the Avengers.

A/N: Continuing my little experiment here with chapter2, a bit more filler for the story. Sorry for any mistakes made, hope you enjoy it even a tiny bit.

Word count:  2,903

Warmings: fights, harsh language, not part of the original MCU

Y/N- Your name 

Y/L/N- Your Last Name

                                  ----------------------------

   The suitcase made a slight thumping sound, when you laid it down on the floor next to your desk. Wasting no time books found their new home on the empty shelves, notebooks fell asleep in the dark drawers. Pens, pencils, markers and all your stationary soon followed suit and found their own little space to rest.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.” the silence in the room finally got overthrown by the voice of its new owner, asking for some help in the matters unfolding 

Yes Miss Y/N

“Would you put a timer for 5min from now please?” still focused onto your stuff, finding them a visible but safe from damage storage. Nothing could destroy as well as time and dust did.

Timer set for 5 minutes from now.

“Thank you.” The only thing left to do now was to get the clothes in the closet and move the tech to the lab. Hopefully Dr. Banner wouldn’t mind waiting a bit more, not like he seemed to but who knows, Hulk lived inside him after all. You didn’t want to take a chance and play with his limits. The closet was hidden inside the wall, stealthy I must say. Toothpaste and toothbrush, essentials and cosmetics. All was done, now.

      Ding Ding Ding.  

Timer is going off  Miss. Shall I turn it off or restart it?

“Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y. You can turn it off. “

  Your laptop and small bag were safely nestled under your arm, making your way outside the room.  For a moment you thought you got lost, but the orange tint of the sun’s rays soon pulled your attention in the right direction. Around the corner your nose caught the smell of caramel. Your head hesitantly protruded behind the pillar, as you called out to the man holding 2 cups in his hands firmly.

“Oh.” He jumped a bit, reaching out offering one of the mugs “ I hope you like it, we don’t have much selection when it comes to tea here. Coffee addicts you know.” he laughed out

“It is ok. Thank you very much.” Your leg levered and you swung onto the bar chair like it was nothing, taking a sip from the hot drink. You felt it warm you up slowly as it went down, melting away a bit of your anxiety. Once again your sight was captivated by the view. No one knows how much time passed since you got lost in the sunset, but it was nice. You could barely hear the bustling city from the 134th floor. It was only you, the sun and the room. Quiet almost like a safe serene space.

“Beautiful isn’t it.” Bruce shook you out of your little mind palace

“Mm? Ah, yes. Very much so. “ you puffed out some air with your smile, eyes forming little crescent moons “I feel like a cat, my attention keeps drifting to the glass unintentionally.”

“I understand you. I keep doing that myself and I have lived in the compound for quite some time now. “ the conversation was lighthearted, easily drifting over the main reason for your arrival “One would think I would be used to it by now.”

“Mr Stark made this place so calm. Big yet homey.” Your head scanned the area, words intriguing the doctor “ In a way it contrasts the inner state of most of the Avengers.” realized what just came out of your lips, your body stiffened. Oh man, way to ruin it - you thought to yourself “I am so sorry.” The mug clanked under the table, sending a vibration to his palm, as you bowed “I spoke out of place.”

“I think you might be on to something.” Your neck pulled your head up, a few strands of hair falling down next to your soft cheek. Bruce was still looking at the setting sun with a soft smile, his jaw exposing the beard to the light, coloring it a deep fiery yellow hue. There was something nostalgic in his dark eyes. “Most of us here have some sort of troubled past- lets sugar coat it a bit. This whole building, on the levels we use., is like a constant Zen state. It calms us down unintentionally. How do I say this...” He turned towards his coffee, laughing out almost silently.

“Maybe it offers you the peace you couldn’t have on the inside, masking the pain from past trauma. A way to indirectly cope with all that had happened, offering a haven to heal the past.” Bruce was listening to you, taking in your way of thinking and how right you were about something that had always been in front of his eyes ,but he had never noticed it before. Such a young girl, so much pain in her manner. He couldn’t bring himself to ask you about the weight inside your voice. It felt too close for him to do so. He had just met you after all, it is not like he could just straight up ask you about all your deepest and darkest secrets, that you might be hiding underneath your mature façade.

“Well, enough about our depressing past.” He pushed off the table “Lets get you situated in your new place.”Dr. Banner began walking in the direction of the lab, turning towards you from time to time. He was make sure you were close by and not lost somewhere in this maze of halls, corridors and who knows what else Tony could have hidden in these walls, for some unsuspecting person to stumble upon.

“I am sadly not familiar with your work like Tony is. He told me about you literally a few hours before you arrived, so you would have to excuse me for that.” You nodded with a smile, accepting the apology he didn’t even need to speak of 

“The lab is pretty big.” He unlocked the door and turned the lights on. It was exactly as he said and nothing like you had expected. The color pattern was the same tints, maybe a bit of blue mixed in as well, a dash of red. The tables and tech inside were state-of-the-art, high-quality and very well kept. Some weren’t even yet released or known to the public. Talking year 3054 up in here.

“This will be your desk, right next to me.”Bruce plopped onto his chair and waved at you “Hi, Hi.”

  He gestured for you to get yourself as comfortable as possible, which you almost couldn’t wait to do. Your fingers gently ran over the material getting familiar with it. Just with one look you already knew where everything was going to go, like it knew it’s own home. You had a tech bay, where you could check how systems worked, if they didn’t and building anything. It was amazing, just an arm’s length distance was possibility and creation itself. Excitement boiled inside you, eyes wide. Reaching inside the bag, you pulled out your work computer, your project tablet and made sure they were all connected to the internet and matched the Stark system interface. As soon as you saw the company logo you were all set up.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.” the silence danced hand in hand with your voice

Yes Miss. Would you like a run down on the desk functions?

“Yes please.” In a matter of minutes you realized that this wasn’t just some random fancy desk ,but a whole machine of its own. Interactive hologram functions, building station and program 3D design. It had it all. Bruce was shocked how easy you worked with F.R.I.D.A.Y. , naturally taking a lead and informing yourself at 100% capacity about what you will be working with. For a second Tony flashed before his eyes.

“What made you apply here?” he cut your investigation “I don’t mean to be rude but I saw some of your pre-university work.”

“No problem. I was mostly out of the country for a very long time, maybe most of my life. When I came back the Avengers were something I loved watching on the news.” The praise went over Bruce’s head unnoticed “ There was something nostalgic when I looked at you guys. Mr. Stark’s tech, the way everyone fought with ease, I don’t know how to explain it. I craved that in my life, almost like a forgotten world I was striving to immerse myself back into. “ a gentle crook of the neck and a smile eased Bruce from the question

“Well you made it here, so congratulations.” loud joyous clapping followed his words” I think I am talking for all of us, we will love having you around. So-” His face became serious, glasses finding the bridge of his nose onto his face, eyes sharp “Would you like to start with your job here miss intern?” he winked playfully waiting to see your reaction. Like a mirror ,you pulled your hair away from your face, rolled up your sleeves and flashed back the same look of determination. “Introduce me to your train of thought and your projects.”

“I work mainly with the structure and characteristics of vibranium. At first, I was focused on making prosthetics that pack a punch the same way the Iron Man suits worked and Sergeant Barnes’s arm- of course on a smaller scale. But then my mind started drifting towards the process before amputation, which was for a certain percent of people the healing factor. Maybe inside strength as well. ”

“As in incorporating it into medical technology?” this sounded too simple of an idea coming for someone Tony chose, yet Bruce kept listening. He was judging the book by its cover way too soon.

“Not exactly. Vibranium has a metal crystal structure that possesses ‘memory’ the same way other metals remember being indented even after getting fixed or straightened eventually. My theory has a few parts before I reach the main plan. Going on an atomic level, even deeper to its base structure, I change the connections between the atoms. They have the same functions as in keeping the shape, but missing that molding memory.”

“You are saying you can mold the bonds, selecting freely what function to remove?” Bruce pushed back off his chair, letting the idea enter his ear and stay there, feeding the interest on his face.

“I am not saying I can.” he was listening more and more with each passing minute “I am saying I did it. I am in the final stages of my project.” Your hands pulled out a flat disk of vibranium  “F.R.I.D.A.Y. would you do a double scan before and after I bend this?”

Affirmatively Miss. Scan done. Shall I offer a hologram?

“Please do.” Right between your two bodies you could now see the basics of the metal “ See how the bonds are thicker? I noticed, metal bonds just have to keep  the shape of the crystal structure. Not only did I make vibranium stronger than it originally was, but now if I bend-it.” Your voice strained in pair with your muscles, as you folded and unfolded the sheet. The second scan showed no memory intake not even deformed the shapes “I call this metal healing.”

“That...that is amazing, not even a crease to be noticed! But where are you going with this?” Bruce rubbed his face, still shook from what you just showed him

“It might sound stupid, but this isn’t even my main idea. You see, if we look at matter as one and the same, things start to add up. Everything on a molecular level has no difference. Bonds, and atom-placement dictate what the object will be, look like and how it works- properties if you wish. I looked at vibranium and human flesh as different parts of one thing, which lead me to believe enhancing people could be done without super soldier serums.”

“That is… truly amazing, but won’t the testing period be a sadistic thing. We are not HYDRA thankfully.” As great as this was Bruce had a point here “Human experiments are not a politic the Avengers will ever lean upon. As fellow humans nonetheless.”

“I am not planning to make another Winter Soldier. I already have control over vibranium on levels outside and inside hyperspace.” You pulled out a bottle of metallic looking dust. The top unscrewed easy and you spilled the contents like heavy silvery snow all over the floor. “If I take quarks from the human body and use them to make 1 proton from the atomic nucleus, I can theoretically program it to answer to the human body using the unbroken rule of our system.”

  Bruce blinked a few times understanding exactly where you were reaching “All work in favor of the body.” He said out loud, glasses sliding off his skin

“Exactly. If they get programmed correctly the metal will work for the body, under the command of the main system- the nerves and brain. Post that success I would be able to inject them with a liquid medium directly into the bloodstream. As they make their way to all parts of the body, they will get acquainted with the cells. I want to change them so they will be susceptible to hormones as well. Basically I want to make a metal compound that reacts like organic matter. It would be able, upon will, to pile around bones, create fibers, strengthening muscles ecc. Some could even carry other substances with them, or isolate toxic ones. Now their size and ability for diapedesis is still questionable. So far I can move them at a certain extend.” You swung your hand and the dust lifted off the floor cleanly in one swoop 

“That is amazing!” Bruce pitched his voice after seeing the floating cloud “Are you using some kind of device ?”

“No, this dust was modeled after me, I am the only guinea pig so no one was harmed in the making. I have to say though, it was quite painful till I got it right.” You laughed out uneasy, scratching your arm  

“ I could only imagine, taking your own tissue for this. What else could it do?”

“Well. I know that Mr. Stark isn’t into weapons anymore, so I pitched him the enhancing technique only. The dust’s only function right now sadly is shaping.” Your fingers danced as the vibranium cloud formed Captain America’s shield, before turning into a sword. “As long as I have enough information of structure, function and the way the object works I can make it.” Your footsteps were confidant and strong.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. the window if you please.”

Certainly Miss

   The clicking sound of the metal around the glass flung the object open. Your hand reached outside and pointed towards the sky. “My uncle had a deep interest in weapons so naturally I learned as well by listening to him.” The dust wrapped around your hand and formed a Heckler Koch pistols. With the pull of the trigger you shot into the air, making Bruce jump from the sound.

“I am sorry about that, I should have warned you.” You giggled stepping in

“That is a completely functional firearm. His breath normalized as his body took him right up to you, running his hands over the gun “ This is, something I can’t even imagine.” Eyes scanning every inch of it looking like a perfect mold “How does it look so solid? Smooth, no trace of it even being made from any smaller particle. ”

“Oh that, intra-atomic pressure. Kind of like gravity times 100 or more. If I pitched this to Mr.Stark I think the selling point would have been…”your fingers gently pulled the weapon out of Dr.Banner’s hand as the vibranium flew from the outside to the magazine “ It doesn’t run out of ammo since I call it back at anytime AND once in the body I can infest it.”

“It could travel through the blood stream and form clumps in certain organs!” he gasped

“I could have gone a bit more sadistic with this one, but I will stop talking now.” You laughed out sending your project back to its jar, securely tightened up. 

“How far is your limit? I mean is there a distance at which you can’t sense the partials, any mental fatigue or physical? You are amazing! This is something out of this world truly, no wonder Tony accepted your application. I wouldn’t be able to come up with anything closely resembling…wow.” He kept praising you each time his mouth opened

“Banner.” Light and confident footsteps accompanied the familiar playboy voice inside the lab

Welcome back Sir

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. medical bay on standby please.”

As you wish Sir

“I would appreciate it if you stepped back from my new intern and helped out a bit. We have injured coming in stat.” Tony waved his hand and Bruce pulled away from you, cleaning the couch on his side “You too miss intern. No slacking off just because it’s your first day. Treat it as orientation.”

“Yes Mr. Stark.” Panic rose up inside you again as you tried to follow what Dr. Banner was doing. Injured? Were the rest of the Avengers on a mission this whole time? It didn’t matter, you were mobilized as well and for a second it felt kind of cool, like you were also an agent fighting crime. The grunts and groans pulled you back to Earth as Captain America’s large frame stepped inside.  

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 10

Chapter title: Short Fuses

Word count: about 3400 words

Author’s Note: Hopefully this chapter is up to the usual standards, especially considering I completed it in about a week. I really want to try and stay on schedule as much as I can especially considering that I have about six other ideas all begging to be written the second this fic is finished.

Warning for descriptions of violence, just in case.

First  | Previous  | Next

...

The loud slam of a car door made the two Mobians still inside it jump.

Shadow and Rouge stared out the window, horrified, as Omega drew himself up to his full height of four feet and eleven inches and stared down the troops. When he’d seen his friends so scared, so certain that this was the end, something inside him had snapped.

He wasn’t ordinarily the type to process much in the way of emotion. His circuits hadn’t been built for it in the first place, but so much rewiring and extra work had been done by now that he’d almost become more than his processors and coding. And...meeting two people who understood him in a way he’d never thought possible had done a lot for his personality as well. By now, Omega had grown to care for these two organics more than he had ever thought possible since the day they had first met.

And now he was furious.

“I HAVE HAD ENOUGH.” he thundered, his voice blasting out of his speakers at top volume. “YOU HAVE CHASED US ALL OVER THIS CHAOSDAMNED COUNTRY. YOU HAVE TRAUMATIZED BOTH OF MY FRIENDS. AND YOU HAVE RUINED OUR LIVES.

“I WILL GIVE YOU ONE CHANCE TO GET OUT OF HERE. ONE. CHANCE. THEN I START FIRING. AND I WILL NOT STOP.”

He immediately began to power on all of the weapons that he could possibly use at once. Everything from machine guns to missiles to lasers started to warm up and make clicking noises as his ammunition slid into place. Omega made sure to load a few extra explosive charges into his weaponry- his targeting systems had been significantly improved after some time in Tails’s workshop, but they still weren’t perfect. Especially not with this level of opponents. 

He found that he didn’t really care.

(His only real worry was that the firing noises would stress out Shadow.)

The G.U.N. soldiers refused to back down, and oh how Omega wished that he could properly express the blend of frustration, rage, and just the tiniest bit of satisfaction that burned and sparked through his wires. As it was, he simply had to settle for speaking.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING?” he asked.

One of the apparent leaders pulled out a megaphone, and the robot’s head spun ninety degrees directly to the right to face him. “I DIDN’T SAY YOU COULD TALK.”

A single shot ripped the megaphone from the man’s hand.

“NOW LEAVE US ALONE.”

The actual fighting forces were almost entirely made up of G.U.N. drones, so Omega began tearing into those with ease. Explosions of flame appeared across the field as his shots scattered all around the first wave.

The E-series robot was at least a little pleased that it seemed like he wouldn’t have to physically fight any humans today, though. He’d spent enough time around Rouge and Shadow to know that they’d both be horrified if he did- and he wasn’t going to upset them. Not now.

As it was, he was holding his ground impressively, considering that G.U.N.’s mechanical soldiers were top-of-the-line creations, built specifically with fighting software according to the organization’s highest standards. They were loaded with the latest weapons, and made with light material so that they could move quickly across the battlefield.

But they had never before faced down a nearly three thousand pound robot built by a mad genius with a destructive streak a mile wide….so they were basically being mowed into the ground.

Before long, though, their orders suddenly appeared to change, and a squad started heading directly for the car which still held his two closest friends.

A laser blast incinerated the first few with the full power of Omega’s protective fury behind it, but having two targets to manage- himself and the car- was a lot for anyone to handle. If he turned his attention to the drones swarming the vehicle, then they would get too close to him and start trying to tear him apart. But if he focused for too long on those tearing at his chassis, they could easily break into the car.

Once, when he was busy dealing with an irritating detachment of flying robots, one of the ground fighters broke through a window and started reaching for Shadow and Rouge. The hybrid managed to stab it through the face with a Chaos Spear, but almost immediately went limp against the seat afterwards, clearly struggling to maintain consciousness.

With a scream of static, Omega sent the next few assailants who dared attack his friends flying, but there were just too many for him to handle alone.

As the robots began to climb atop the car, Omega stopped paying attention to the ones trying to tear him apart and focused his aim on the others, but one managed to grab his arm and sent the shots flying wildly around their brethren, skittering across the top of the vehicle.

Omega felt his ammunition starting to run low and wished he had a chance to grab some extras, but even the slightest pause could mean failure now. The drones were clawing at his body, at the car, and they just kept on coming.

He couldn’t last much longer...

And that was when a truck to his right exploded in a giant ball of fire.

The robot was startled for a moment- he hadn’t been aiming for the trucks at all! A moment later, though, a roaring noise sounded directly overhead, and Omega looked up to see what was perhaps the best sight to grace his optics in months.

A red biplane wheeled around overhead before taking another shot directly at the drones surrounding him, leaving him perfectly free to blast the rest off of the car. The E-series robot was also certain he heard a faint “Heck yeah!” from above, and indeed, when his vision focused properly, he spotted a small blue shape standing atop the wings of the plane.

Omega could see Rouge smiling- actually smiling- from inside the car, as she shook Shadow back into awareness. The moment Omega saw her say the name ‘Sonic’, Shadow jolted upright and scrambled to the window despite his shaking limbs, staring up at the Tornado in shock.

He said something to Rouge then, who responded with a light smack on his shoulder, looking more relieved than anything else.

After a few more moments, the tide had begun to turn, and Omega soon heard someone patching directly into his auditory processors. A familiar high-pitched voice asked, “Omega! Do you read me?”

“Affirmative.” he replied, blasting another few drones into oblivion. “It is good to see you, Tails.”

“You too.” the fox replied happily, clearly pleased to have arrived in time.

“Okay,” Tails continued, his voice becoming more serious, “can you get Shadow and Rouge to fly up to the plane? I can’t land, but I need to get them out of here if they can’t fight.”

“I will inform them at once.” 

Omega stalked over to the car, physically shoving several more drones off it and allowing them to land with a loud clatter on more of their kind. Rouge wound down the window, still looking optimistic.

“Alright, what’s the plan now?” she asked him, a sparkle in her eyes.

He blew up a couple of flying bots to his left in big blasts of fire before responding. “Unfortunately, you will have to fly Shadow directly upwards to the plane. This is the best way to get out.”

Rouge groaned. “Chaos...I don’t have to lift you too, right?”

“No.” Omega said. “I will stay here and keep them busy until your return.”

“Won’t you be alright?” she asked him worriedly, placing a hand on his arm.

“We’re not leaving you.”, Shadow insisted. His eyes were narrowed, but the determined effect was undermined by the way his body slumped against the seat, as though it were the only thing keeping him upright.

Suddenly, another voice spoke up. “Come on, you think I can’t watch this big guy’s back?”

Sonic walked up next to Omega and leaned forward on the car’s window. At first, he wore his trademark smile (tinged with a little extra relief), but it quickly turned to shock after he did a double take. “Uh...that is you guys, right? Cause last I checked, Rouge isn’t edgy and you don’t dress like a nerd.” he said, pointing at Shadow.

“I don’t look like a nerd.” Shadow mumbled irritably, glowering at him.

“You actually kinda do, hon.” Rouge said, her smile growing wider. 

The hybrid’s eyes widened. “But you picked this outfit out...Rouge!”

Omega played an audio file of a person clearing their throat while causing another explosion. “While I am certain this conversation is pleasant for all involved, please consider continuing it when we are not surrounded by mechanical troops trying to tear our limbs off.”

All three Mobians looked sheepish. “Alright then, let’s go.” Rouge said, refocusing and flexing her wings in preparation for takeoff.

“We will cover you. Do not worry.” Omega assured them both.

Shadow still frowned at him, before clasping his small gloved hand around the robot’s large metal finger. “Don’t go doing anything too crazy, alright?”

Rouge grinned again, though a little less brightly, before stepping out of the vehicle for the first time that day. “He’ll be okay. Us, on the other hand...you know what, let’s just do it.”

Then she grabbed onto Shadow’s hand and immediately blasted fifteen feet directly upwards in the air. Tails soared as low as he could possibly dare to go in the meantime, even tilting the plane to the side slightly so that Shadow could climb into the seat. 

Some flying G.U.N. robots began to close in on Rouge as her wings beat frantically, struggling to gain more height. Omega couldn’t fire now- there was too much risk of him hitting her- but then he realized that Sonic was already handling it. The hero bounced off of the car, then a robot, before launching himself up high into the air and spindashing all of the drones, bouncing from one to the next like a wild blue pinball.

Meanwhile, the E-series robot busied himself with spraying explosives and laser fire across the entire field, finally feeling free to properly tear into the opposing forces. At one point, he actually lifted the car above his head, set it on fire, and threw it with all of his strength directly at an advancing wave of drones, taking out an entire platoon.

(The car rental company would just have to deal with it.)

Omega heard a small chuckle to his right, and looked over to see the blue hero himself standing there and smirking up at him. “You’re pretty ticked off, huh?” he asked.

“YES.” Omega replied, putting as much loathing and distaste behind that one word as he possibly could whilst throwing a drone several yards into the nearest tree. 

Sonic’s grin tightened in response, and something shifted deep within his eyes, transforming them into a blazing green flame. His entire expression practically screamed ‘you messed with the wrong people this time, idiots’.

“Hey, pal?” he asked, his words deceptively light and loose. “I heard you can blast curled-up ‘hogs like me outta those arm cannons of yours. Mind if I give it a whirl?” The blue-and-gold robot could practically feel the growl that lay hidden beneath his voice...and decided that he definitely approved. 

In response, Omega’s hand simply retracted into his arm, leaving a perfectly Mobian-sized barrel behind. Sonic immediately curled up on the ground, and the robot scooped him into the cannon with ease, before aiming it at the mechanical soldiers marching towards them yet again. “Ready?” he asked.

“Always.” the hero hissed from within his quills, curling up tighter.

One second later, he was fired out of Omega’s arm at high speed, before ricocheting off about a dozen robots hard enough to shear most of them in half. Sonic uncurled after that, bouncing to his feet with an expression barely qualifying as a smile as drones fell beneath his feet and fists.

Not long after that, Omega heard the whir of a G.U.N. troop carrier above them and saw an entire new wave of reinforcements dropping in- the organization clearly wasn’t willing to risk their human soldiers on two such dangerous foes. While the blue blur was certainly helpful, he knew that they couldn’t hold off endless amounts of these machines, and would unfortunately tire or run out of ammo eventually.

Which was why he was incredibly grateful to see Tails’s biplane soaring into the fray just moments later, prepared to sweep them both to safety. (While he enjoyed giving G.U.N. its long-withheld punishment, he also wanted to survive long enough to see his friends healthy and happy again, of course.)

“Omega! I need you to get on top of that truck!” Tails ordered through his audial processors. “I can try and pick you and Sonic up from there!”

The robot acted immediately, barreling through the lines of drones with incredible strength. To his left, he saw Sonic doing the same- jumping over the bots’ heads and up onto the trailer. The hero fought to hold off some physical soldiers with punches and kicks carefully calculated to bruise, but not kill.

Omega clawed his way up to the top of the truck, leaving deep gouges in the side as he heaved himself over the edge. They both scanned the sky, watching as Tails waited for the right opening…

Suddenly, the Tornado dove sharply downwards, carving through lines of machinery as it soared towards them. Its wings nearly skimmed the trees as it closed in on them. Sonic tensed, preparing to leap, as Tails yelled, “Jump on...now!”

Omega’s reflexes were not exactly what one might call good, unfortunately, having been built with strength in mind over speed. Thankfully, Sonic grabbed hold of his arm, and that combined with his rocket boosters was enough to sling him face-first over the seat as Tails pulled upwards.

Turning his head to the side as he struggled into the plane, the E-series robot caught a glimpse of Sonic braced on the main wing of the Tornado as they put more and more distance between themselves and the ambush site with every second. However, he also quickly spied several flying drones headed their way.

Clearly, Tails had too. “Omega! Can you take care of those for me? And strap in, ‘cause I’m about to try and shake these people for good!”

He began to empty his cartridges as quickly as possible at those infernal machines, nothing more than hollow shells of metal twisted to serve an evil master. Omega had never been more grateful that he was made with free will. Most of the drones fell quickly, but were easily replaced by more of their brethren. 

The blue and gold robot was disgusted at the very thought of being expendable. 

“Hang on tight!” the fox yelled. 

A jolt shook the entire Tornado as its turbo engines fired, causing the plane to blast forward at such speeds that the ground blurred beneath them. G.U.N. just didn’t have the technology available to catch up with them, especially not while they were this high up.

Soon enough, Angel Island came into view, but it almost looked like it was...moving away from them?

Sonic saw Omega’s ‘frown’ and explained quickly. “Angel Island doesn’t move too fast, and the Tornado gets some crazy mileage with these new engines! We figured Knux oughta get a head start on those creeps.”

At least Knuckles wasn’t avoiding the action out of cowardice, then. If he had been, Omega would have punched his Master Emerald straight off the island, ‘duties’ be damned.

As they came in for a landing, the robot practically felt his chassis grow heavier the more he looked around. Shadow was slumped against a tree near the edge of the clearing, while Rouge was leaning on the steps of the altar, exhausted. Knuckles was sitting cross-legged atop the Master Emerald, his eyes closed as he focused on directing the island where he needed it to go.

“Shadow!” Sonic shouted, jumping off the plane. His face was twisted with concern as he rushed over to his friend. “Dude, why aren’t ya up with the Emerald? Chaos knows you need that energy!”

The hybrid groaned faintly, turning his head to face them. “Knuckles...is busy with it. Don’t want to...interrupt now- we need to get away.”

Omega glowered at him. “Enough of this nonsense. If you insist upon behaving in such a manner, then I will have to make you take care of yourself. Again.” The robot scooped Shadow up in his arms and began to physically carry him to the altar, despite the latter’s protests and squirming. 

Sonic and Rouge giggled practically in tandem, and Shadow glared at them both. “Shut it.”

“What, hon?” Rouge smirked. “This is the second time Omega’s picked you up in like a week, can’t I enjoy it?”

The robot ignored them both and placed Shadow on the altar carefully, the hybrid’s body too weak to do anything more than just lie there. Quickly, though, the Chaos energy began to seep into him, restoring some true life to his eyes.

He didn’t have much more than twenty minutes to rest, unfortunately, before G.U.N.’s best planes began to catch up with the island’s sluggish movement. The four battle-ready inhabitants of Angel Island readied themselves the moment they heard the first aircraft roar in the distance.

Rouge spoke up first, though. “Shadow, honey, I absolutely hate asking this of you, and if there was any other way to get out of here that I could think of then I would take it. But I can tell that there’s at least three Chaos Emeralds on this island, and with how good you’ve gotten at teleporting...if Sonic and Knuckles helped, could you zap us out of here?”

Shadow dragged himself to his feet with the help of the Master Emerald, sighing. “Yes. I’ll need Knuckles to channel as much energy into us as he possibly can, and at least one of the Emeralds. Sonic can use another.”

Sonic and Knuckles both looked startled. “No way, man!” the hero exclaimed. “You could really hurt yourself that way!”

“So help me then.” Shadow replied flatly, looking at him over his glasses. 

The blue hedgehog sighed reluctantly and stood on the other side of the Master Emerald from him, holding out his hand. “You got your Emerald, lil’ bro?”

Tails placed it in his hand as Knuckles handed Shadow one of the two he’d been holding onto. Then, the echidna placed both of his hands on the great gemstone, breathed in, and sent as much power as he could flowing into both of the hedgehogs.

Their eyes locked, and Shadow inclined his head almost imperceptibly. 

“Chaos….Control!!”

The entire island vanished.

It reappeared moments later, above the ocean. Sonic would have plenty of time to be concerned about all the water, but for now, he was more preoccupied with Shadow. He hovered nearby as the hybrid’s eyes unfocused slowly and he swayed from side to side.

The hero caught him a moment later as he crumpled, unconscious. Feeling for a heartbeat, he sighed with relief the moment he found a steady pulse in Shadow’s wrist. 

“He simply needs rest.” Omega said, watching as Sonic laid him back down at the altar (before lying down right next to him, having exhausted his own Chaos stores as well). “As do you,” he added, spinning his head to the right to stare at Rouge.

The robot continued to stare at her, unflinching despite her glower, until she lay down on the grass with an irritated sigh. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of this team, you know.”

Omega folded his arms. “And you may do so soon. After you get some rest.”

Rouge closed her eyes and seemed to relax soon enough. Omega stood exactly in between his two friends, watching over them with a careful eye.

After a minute or two, he heard Knuckles whisper to his friends, “How do you guys think she figured out that we had those emeralds?”

Without opening her eyes or moving at all, Rouge replied, “I’m just that talented, babe.”

The resulting startled shriek from her boyfriend made birds a hundred feet away flee their trees in fear.

[jtrbluv]

die for you | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst, songfic

word count: 3.4k

rating: PG-13

warnings: intoxication, harassment, fighting

you're scared to be lonely 'specially in the night i'm scared that i'll miss you happens every time 

song: die for you-the weeknd

exes!au

A/N: hi! this is a revamp of the very first fic i’ve ever written on this blog. i decided to do this because i am revamping and scrapping my original idea of a songfic overall! if you’ve been on my blog before or if you haven’t, i originally wrote songfics so that the storyline would flow along with the lyrics of the song which i realized soon thereafter that it was impossible because we all read at different speeds and it greatly hindered the creative process in general. now i decided to just solely come up with stories out of inspiration of songs. i highly recommend listening to the song while reading! 

The pungent yet all too familiar liquid burns against the back of your throat as you feel it gushing deeper into your system. Absentmindedly, you slam the shotglass back onto the wooden counter, earning a disconcerted look from the bartender that had been serving you for the past hour and a half. You lick the remaining alcohol off of your lips, relishing in the way the fluid tasted against your tongue.

The alcohol buzzed in your system, leaving you in a piddling daze as you rest your cheek in the palm of your left hand. Your remaining hand fiddled with the shot glass, face contorting into a deep glower at the empty contents, hoping that the alcohol would replenish itself without you having to empty your wallet. You avert your eyes to behind the counter, eyeing the different taps they had in store along with the selection behind the glass cabinet. The bartender that had been supplying you all night came back into your periphery, noticing the familiar thick streaks of velvety red that resided beside his natural onyx locks. He was scrubbing the counter a few feet away from you, the sleeves of his white button-up rolled up to his forearms. What was his name again? Sam? John?

You obnoxiously clear your throat causing him to look up from what he was doing, “Can I get another shot?”

“I know I might be a bartender and all, but don’t you think you should slow down a bit?” he asks, brows furrowed in both bewilderment and concern. His nametag read San.

You toss your eyes back in irritation at his words, “I’ve done this before, I think I know my limits.”

He presses his lips into a thin line before sighing out in defeat, grabbing the near-empty bottle behind him as he fills up your glass back up to your satisfaction.

“See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you indecently spit back just as he tips off the glass. He scoffs at your remark, setting the bottle back on the counter behind as he goes back to his task.

You down the glass in one swig, nose scrunching at the bitter taste on your tongue and the stinging sensation that accompanied it as it traveled down your throat once more. You return once again to your state of solitude and melancholy. This time you twist around in your seat, eyes trailing to the whatever was beyond the door of the bar. The building itself was located in a generally busy area of the city, made obvious by the frequent passerbys and occasional onlookers that would peek in through the window.

The soft glow of the lights that were emitting from neighboring buildings magnified the growing buzz of alcohol in your system as they began to appear hazy. It had an endearing and seemingly familiar twinkle them which made you visualize the irises of a boy who once had your heart. Oh, how you wished to be able to see him smile again—the way his eyes would morph into two crescent moons accentuated by the whisker-like wrinkles that would etch themselves onto his temples. His mouth would stretch into a wide D-shaped curve, his slightly larger front teeth coming into view the more you made him laugh. The warmth that would encompass your whole body when he would wrap his muscular arms around your much smaller frame—he made you feel protected, at ease, at home. The feeling of the soft, pillowy flesh of his lips against your own—pigmented by the strawberry chapstick he loved so goddamn much because he said it tasted like candy. The vision is short-lived when the deep timbre of someone’s voice pulls you out of your daze.

“You seem to be having a lot of fun by yourself,” he whispers into your ear, his breath fanning over your cheek as he stands a little, actually a lot closer than you’d like.

Disgusted at his mere presence you send a scowl his way while moving to another seat to create more distance. Not deterred in the slightest, he slides into the seat next to you—using his foot to turn your chair so you’d be facing him.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. A coy smirk adorned his well-made features as he intently stared back at you, wanting more after you had made obvious that you didn’t. The honey-like hue of his irises juxtaposed the darkness of the glare he was giving you. He wore a form-fitting black button-up—the first few buttons unhinged at the top on purpose to show off the silver chain that adorned his collarbones. The leather jacket he wore over it accentuating the curves of his muscles. You tear your focus away from him, turning back to the original position of your chair so you’d be facing behind the counter.

“Playing hard to get I see, well I’m always in for a good game,” he pretentiously states, the smirk widening onto his features as he inches closer to you.

“Really, you couldn’t think of anything better than that,” you say as a giggle involuntarily erupts from your throat. His smirk morphs into a grimace of disdain at your reaction. The grin on your lips slowly dissipates when you take a glance at his overcast features.

“Sorry, I’m not in the mood for company,” you deadpan, taking the shotglass in your hand as you scanned behind the counter to look for the bartender, hoping to exchange your tiny glass for a much bigger one.

His hand come in contact with your own, fingers wrapping around the glass and pulling it out of your reach, “I didn’t ask for your permission.”

Your breath hitches as you gasp in shock at his sudden action, taken aback by his intrusiveness. You slide out of the chair you were sitting in—the buzz of the alcohol abruptly fleeting your body out of pure abhorrence of the sleazy man standing in front of you.

“I refuse to deal with this type of bullshit right now and people like you.”

You hastily grab your wallet out of your purse, digging to find a reasonable tip to give the bartender who undeservingly had the displeasure of serving you for the past two hours now. Setting the money down on the counter next to San, you give him an apologetic smile to hopefully make up for the migraine-inducing irritation you’ve most likely given him. He nods in return with a small grin, taking the money and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans while leaving the counter to start bussing empty tables.  

Turning on your heel, your senses set straight on leaving the bar and going back to the comforts of your bed. As you begin to make your way out the door, a hand snakes around your wrist, yanking you back and causing you to stumble over your own feet—eliciting a string of curses to spew from your lips. Your head rams into their rather toned chest, and as you detach yourself from their body you notice the thick fabric of their leather jacket and the glint of light coming from the silver chain resting on their exposed collarbones. You quickly put the pieces together, craning your neck upward to take a glimpse at the man’s face and recognizing that it was the imbecile who was still refusing to leave you alone. Out of instinct, you bring your hands up to where your head had just made contact with his chest and pushed him with as much force as you could muster. Alarmed, he staggers backwards, nearly tripping over the barstool that he was leaning against until he slams his hand on the counter to steady himself. You unknowingly take a few steps towards the door of the bar, keeping your eyes glued to the man in front of you. An inaudible noise leaves his lips as his focus shifts back towards you. Eyes narrowing as he recalibrates his focus, the knit in his brows as prominent as ever as his irises started to morph into a darker shade of ebony. The corner of his lip slowly starts to curl upward—your hand reaching out to grasp the wood of the doorframe on its own accord.

He swiftly pushes himself from the barstool, readjusting his clothes as he momentarily tears his focus away from you. Taking advantage of the few seconds, you whip your head around and take a quick glance outside and instinctively, you book it.

The wind howls and nips at your cheeks as you bolt down the street. The fabric of your jacket ripping against the currents of the wind as you weave in and out of city folk—most of their expressions painted with shock as they halt in their tracks and scurry aside as they start to notice you sprint full force down their direction.

A loud, discernable and gravelly “HEY!” erupts from what you would was the aforesaid man of the night. The echo of his footsteps and their increasing pace could be heard in rhythm with your own.You dismiss it almost immediately, continuing to shoulder others without apology and turning corners in hopes of losing him.

The longer you run—the more the adrenaline begins to seep out of your body—being replaced by fatigue along with the reality that your body was starting to cave. Your lungs start to burn and your throat becomes painfully dry, forcing you to have to take deep gulps before you flat out couldn’t breathe at all. The muscles in your calves and shins on fire and tensing underneath you reminding you that the last experience you ever had of running had come from high school P.E. class.

You whip your head around to survey the area behind you before darting around yet another corner and continuing your pursuit.

As you adjust your focus back to the streets in front of you, you collide into the chest of yet another man. You substantially knock him over, causing him to almost fall back but he picks up his feet from under him, regaining his stance while holding onto your forearms and you, unconsciously holding onto his for dear life as well.

While muttering inaudible apologies to the man, you begin dusting off your pants before reaching up to dust the fabric of his black hoodie. His hand wraps around your wrist as you start to do so. You freeze in your tracks. The action this time around is much more gentle, almost gingerly in a way. Your eyes trail to the slender fingers that wrapped around your wrist before moving to his face before finally settling into his eyes.  The hazy, twinkling specks of light all the more visible in his orbs.

“Y/N?-“

The sound of heavy, quickened footsteps pull you out of your trance. Before the man could finish his words, you yank him aside to the coincidentally located brick-walled alleyway. You couldn’t even consider it an alleyway—being just the perfect width to fit both of your bodies and deep enough to keep you both hidden from sight. On a whim, you motion him to stand in front of you so his body would encompass the opening. He had an all black hoodie and sweatpant ensemble going on, and you hoped that with the poor lighting you two would remain unnoticed.

You both remain there, silent and still. Your back pressed up against the brick wall, hands clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie while nestling your head into his chest. He simply stood there in bewilderment at the chain of events that had just occurred. He would have never imagined that your first encounter since your breakup would be like this.

He decides to break the silence first, “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Um, well” you whisper back in response, finally detaching yourself from him, “it’s kind of a long story. I was at a bar and there was this creepy guy who just wouldn’t leave me alone,” you explain while peering over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but can you please stay with me,” you quietly murmur while looking up at him, “for the time being, I mean. I think he’s still looking for me.”

He gets a small whiff of your alcohol-scented breath, but your expression and tone made it clear that you were sober for the most part. “Of course, I mean, did you really think I was just gonna leave you here?” he asks you while chuckling under his breath, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Before you could react to both his question and his actions, you detect the same gravelly voice that had caused you to land in this mess in the first place. Your eyes widen in fear— trailing to the aforementioned man standing in front of you. Jungkook notices your sudden change in expression and his eyes tread the same path—staring daggers into the man without delay as rage began to pulse through his veins.

He takes a step forward, one of his hands coming in contact with your body as he promptly motions you to move behind him.

“I’ll say this once, and I’ll say this nicely,” Jungkook begins, voice low—like subdued thunder, a tone you had never once heard come from his lips, “if you lay another hand on her, you are going to regret it. And I’ll make sure of it.” You could feel him quivering with anger beneath your fingertips and you could swear you could hear your own heart hammer against the walls of your chest.

The man smirks, not affected in the slightest at Jungkook’s words as he steps towards him. His arm writhes out of your grip as he slams his fist square into the nose of the man’s face. He stumbles back, wiping off the crimson red blood that began to trickle out of his nostrils. The smirk is quickly replaced with a smolder of rage and resentment—cocking his head to the side as he spits out more blood, still reeling from the previous hit before he lunges towards Jungkook, anger visibly spiking within him. You quickly sidestep as Jungkook’s back comes in contact with the brick wall, the wind visibly knocked out of him.

Overcome with both distress and rage, you run to the man’s back bringing your hand up to his face and clawing him in the eyes, disarming him. With your other free hand, you grab the flesh of his swollen nose, curling your fingers as much as you could—digging your fingernails and twisting the tendon. A guttural groan escapes his throat as he spirals towards you, pushing you into the pavement and kicking you in the ribs. The shrill scream you emit causes a wave of fury to stream through Jungkook’s bones—he surges towards the man, vigorously slamming into his body with full force right into the hood of a car. You hear the man’s head come in contact with the metal with a loud thump as his body crumbles to the ground. Jungkook’s body towered over his as the man desperately swung, arms flailing as the two wrestled on the cement.

Running on pure, unfiltered anger, Jungkook smashes his fist into the man’s jaw—the bone-shattering noise making you wince. The man ceases action as he lies there unconscious. Jungkook removes himself from the man, groaning in pain as he attempts to stand up. He sees you standing in front of him, streams of tears running down your cheeks—clutching the spot where the man had kicked you. Your eyes retract to his form, scurrying over to him as you carefully help him stand up. Wrapping his arm over your shoulder, you guide him as he limps towards the brick wall and leans against it. You cautiously slide out of his hold, kneeling down to the unconscious man and pressing two fingers to the crook of his neck—the detectable beats alerting you that his pulse was still intact. The sound of police sirens and red and blue flashing lights come into view as one officer gets down from his car. You briefly describe the situation starting from the altercation at the bar to the current disposition of it all—an ambulance taking him to the nearest hospital where he would later get arrested. You and Jungkook both reject their offer of taking you two to the hospital despite your pleas for Jungkook to go, considering the cuts and bruises that were littered across his face and neck. He assured them they were minor so they let you two go without further dispute.

“I’m driving you home. I don’t care what you say,” you huff out, one of his arms draped over your shoulder as you guided him into the passenger seat of his car. To your surprise, he relents and gives you a small smile while digging through his pocket for his keys.

The drive back to his apartment is fairly silent, yet comfortable nonetheless. You guide him the whole way to his apartment despite his own efforts to prove that he was okay before groaning involuntarily in pain. You finally reach his apartment, fishing for the keys in your pocket as you unlock the door, setting him on his couch. Recalling the layout of his apartment, you find a first aid kit in one of his cabinets and return to his side. You begin to lay out the contents of the kit out onto his coffee table, ripping open the package of antiseptic wipes before cleaning the cuts on his face. He grimaces, flinching at the sudden stinging sensation.

“Oh my god,” you flinch in sync with him, “sorry, I should’ve given you a warning,” you mutter apologetically.

“No, it’s okay,” he responds, giving you a reassuring smile. You bite your lip before continuing, more gently this time.

Your hands meekly drop to your sides as you let out a deep sigh, “Jungkook, I don’t even know what to say,” you murmur softly, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

He gingerly wipes a tear away with his thumb, “Don’t be. I would never let anyone hurt you Y/N, regardless of how you feel about me.”

“For a split second, I thought you killed the guy,” you say jokingly, causing a chuckle to leave both of your lips.

“I’d gladly both kill and die for you Y/N,” he states matter-of-factly, a small grin lacing his features.

You take a moment to process his words, thinking of what to reply with.

“Thinking back, it’s kinda ironic. How this all turned out,” you admit, thinking out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“Before he approached me in the bar, I actually happened to be thinking about you,” you confess, looking up at him to see his reaction.

“About me?”

“Yeah,” you huff out, diverting your gaze away from him, taking a brief moment to process the words you were about to say, “I miss you. I miss you a lot. And I miss what we had.”

Time and awareness had stopped in a collision of senses when his lips met yours. The coppery taste of his blood mixed with his strawberry chapstick is what you notice first—the taste lingering on your mouth. A wave of warmth spread throughout your body at the sudden contact—tingles running down your spine as you relished in the pure feeling of his lips being on yours again. It’s as if he leaves imprints every time his fingers come in contact with your skin, trailing your jaw before settling on your neck—fingers entangled slightly into your hair. Both of your lips moved together in accord—the all consuming, crashing tides of familiarity, longing and unspoken words that didn’t need to be voiced out loud to be known. It was all there. Mapped out. Clear as day. Vulnerable as ever.

Your lips detach, foreheads still in contact as he graces your vision with the sight of two crescent moons lacing his features. And in that moment you knew—the hazy, twinkling specks that consumed his eyes. They were undying. As undying as the stars that provided light for the dark abyss of the night sky. And as undying as the feelings you two had for one another.

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MASTERLIST