#its currently 1am as i am writing this out. sigh

[autisticevatsunaka]

it was his birthday yesterday. if u even care

[daisymbin]

please don't go - jeon wonwoo

warnings: none

pairings: jeon wonwoo x afab reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

a/n: lower case intended! also writing my first fic at 1am so.....

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

"how was your date?'' wonwoo asked the second the door opened to your shared apartment. not that wonwoo would ever admit it but it is currently 1:03am and he may or may not have stayed up to wait for you to return despite having had a very exhausting day himself.

''why are you still up? isn't it past your bed time?'' you asked as you removed your heels. 'i couldn't sleep.' he simply said. ''so? how was it?''

'it was alright i guess. it wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst either.'' sighing, you walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge before settling near the island of the kitchen.

truthfully, you didn't want to discuss the details with wonwoo. because aside from the fact that you're in love with your best friend, you've also been going on a few dates with mingyu now to try and get over your best friend. seungkwan had suggested setting you up with mingyu when you confided in him as he knew mingyu was interested in you. the only problem, however, is the fact that wonwoo seemed to not like mingyu. ever since the first time you went out with mingyu, wonwoo had no problem in letting you know how bad of an idea it was. saying mingyu was not your type, or that you both don't look good together; all these petty reasons that make no sense at all and you were slowly getting annoyed.

''are you hungry?'' you asked as you tried to change the topic.

''are you going to continue going out with him?''

''should we order some pizza?''

''mingyu isn't even your type, i don't know why him out of all people.''

''or should we order some pasta if you're not feeling pizza?''

''y/n.''

''or maybe i should cook us something? fried rice?''

''y/n can we please just talk about this?''

''do we still have any rice left?''

‘‘Y/N PLEASE!''

''what wonwoo?'' you said back harshly. it isn't until now that you realise how frustrated you are. trying to move on from him is so hard when he is around you all the time. it makes it even harder when he keeps being harsh about your dates and points out why each one of them isn't suitable for you, and the worst part of it all is that you know he's right, all of it. but what were you to do? there is no one who could ever come close to wonwoo.

''stop going out with mingyu! you don't even like him!''

''and how do you know that? maybe i do like him! maybe i like him a lot!'' you wanted to scream and shout to get all your feelings out..but this isn't your first fight with wonwoo about mingyu or any other guy you've been on dates with and you were just so worn out by now.

''that's bullshit and you know it. mingyu literally checks none of the boxes on your list of traits for your type.''

''i made that list 3 years ago! things change wonwoo! not all of us stay the same!''

its wonwoo who is silent now. his knuckles have turned paler than ever from gripping onto the edges of the island so hard.

''what the hell does that mean?''

''nothing.'' you said as you picked up your purse and head to your bedroom. you don't get to go far though, because wonwoo is holding onto your wrist now. so tightly yet so gentle at the same time. you wonder how that is possible. you hope he doesn't feel the pulse on your wrist picking up speed, and he hopes you don't feel his hand slightly trembling.

''please sweetheart...just..not him''

you sigh for the nth time tonight, ''wonwoo i can't just not date every guy you think isn't good enough or suitable enough for me. how am i ever going to find someone?''

''do you have to? do you have to find someone? i know you don't like mingyu enough so why?''

''really wonwoo? do i not like mingyu enough or do you just not like mingyu like how you don't like every single guy i've ever been on a date with? why? are you scared i'll call you less? replace you? have a new best friend? spend less time with you?'' your frustration was slowly growing again.

wonwoo feels his heart clench. can he tell you? will it ruin your 8 year long friendship? things are bound to become awkward, there's no way he can tell you how he truly feels.

but wonwoo decides, wonwoo finally decides that hiding his feelings from you for 5 long years is excruciating enough.

''none of that.'' he says so softly you can barely hear him.

''what?''

''i said, its none of that.''

''then what is it?''

wonwoo decides that if he is to get his heart broken by you, it might as well be tonight. he might as well just....try

wonwoo looks at you one last time for what feels like a good 10 minutes, even though it was only 10 seconds. he's contemplating, he's thinking and then.. he says fuck it.

his body moves faster than his brain. before he could properly process it, he finds his lips on yours. he feels you freeze for a split second, and then he feels you relaxing under his touch. he feels you kissing him back. he feels his heart beating so fast but also, he feels his heart slowly but surely unclench.

he pulls away softly and slowly. ''don't go out with mingyu anymore. don't go out with anyone else anymore. don't have dinner dates with anyone else. don't laugh at someone else's jokes that aren't funny just for the sake of being polite. i won't put you through all of that. i'll hold your hand. i'll have a pair of your converse in the car so your feet won't hurt from heels all day. i'll tell you jokes that are actually funny the way i know you like it. just let me love you and i'll show you all the ways i know how when it comes to you.''

you don't realise your tears slowly staining your cheeks, not until wonwoo's free hand comes up to wipe your tears with his thumb. its now your turn for your hand to reach out for wonwoo's wrist to pull him in for a kiss.

''please...please don't go''

''do you mean it?'' you asked softly

''i do. i love you, and i'll show you.''

and he does. now, he always holds your hand when you're walking on the street, crossing the road, lazing on the sofa, on the bed, on the table when you're waiting for your food to be served. he holds your hair back when you have to puke after having too much to drink. he removes your make up for you when you are too tired or too drunk. he never makes you wait, he always gives you the first bite of his food. he kisses you on the cheek, on the forehead, on your temples, the back of your hand, your fingers and on your lips, all while always telling you how much he loves you. he loves you in all the small and simple ways. but jeon wonwoo knows you love him too.

[aireia]

Am I the ocean you dream of? -- Nanami Kento

tw/cw: gn! reader, angst angst angst, hurt no comfort, nanami's dead.

note: it's almost 1AM. —masterlist

The sound of whirring engines and conversations filled your ears. You leaned back on your seat and looked out the window, the clouds are unhappy today. A sigh left your lips, and you flipped open the small book in your hand. Well, book wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more of a journal, a diary, even. More specifically, the diary of your late lover, Nanami Kento.

Your eyes scanned over the neat cursive handwriting you would’ve recognised in a room stacked to the brim with papers, and you closed your eyes, then tried to remember how you got here in the first place. 

Ah, there it was. You remember how empty you felt the few weeks after the Shibuya incident. You should have convinced him harder to not go, but you knew what he was like. If he is needed, he will show up, even more so because the students were there. Your eyebags were heavy and your movements were sloppy around the apartments as you cleaned through some of the things Nanami owned, and you came across a book with a leather cover, the one you’d always see him write in at night. 

You knew it was an invasion of his privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. You turned the cover and for minutes, you just stood there, staring at the words on the first page. There was nothing there, just his name, and a date. The date of your anniversary, that is. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had started a new book because it symbolised a new chapter of his life with you, or that he had run out of pages in his old journal.

You flipped to the second page, and there it was. “I bought roses to confess to y/n today.” You gulped as you continued reading. “They’re currently asleep on my couch. I’ll leave them something to eat tomorrow because I need to head out early.” 

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you continued reading, and one specific page caught your eye. 

“Maybe I’ll bring them to Malaysia for a holiday. Kuantan seems like a good place.”

Right. He’s talked to you about it before, and the last time he’s mentioned it was a while before he got busy with work, always coming home with different bruises and injuries. Hell, he even told you that he thought about moving there with you.

And here you are now, on a seven hour flight from Japan to Malaysia. Your tired eyes continue scanning over the words, and now you aren’t sure whether you’re just staring at the words or actually reading, because you’ve found yourself reading Nanami’s diary at night when you’re unable to sleep. The thoughts you’ve read inside were all things he’d whisper into your ear at night, and those nights you’ve had the book in your hands as you read through, a faint voice of his remains at the back of your mind, as if he were the one reading to you instead.

There was one in particular that you kept going back to. You remember the one time both of you were extremely tired, but Nanami had insisted on cooking dinner for the both of you. He ended up overseasoning the food, and it was too salty to be edible. You laughed at how many times he tried to apologise while you were busy giggling to yourself about how the ‘great cook Kento’ had finally messed up his cooking. 

Now, as you close your eyes as the plane begins its take off, you realise there’s no one’s shoulder for you to rest your head on when you fall asleep. 

When you open your eyes again, everything is blurry, but you can feel the plane finally land on the solid ground. You’re here. The flight attendants see the passengers off the door, and the message the captain spoke through the speakers stuck in your mind. 

“For those returning to Malaysia, welcome home.” 

How you wished that were the case for you now. 

You collected your suitcases and went through the standard procedures, and the first thing you realised the moment you walked out the door was how hot Malaysia was as compared to Japan during this time. It’s winter in Japan, but it’s always summer in Malaysia. 

It wouldn’t be so bad living here, maybe. Then he wouldn’t need to hear you complain about the cold in winter. 

You booked a cab to your hotel. You purposely booked one near the beaches, so that you could walk to the beach after you got checked in. 

Though, that wasn’t really the case. You’re exhausted. Both from the flight and everything you’ve been through the past few months. The moment you got into your room, even though the sun was blaring hot outside, you just wanted to curl up and sleep for the next few days you were here. 

You’ve been telling yourself these days that Nanami’s had it worse, and he was more tired than you were, than you’ll ever be, but now, you’re in Malaysia, wanting to live his dreams for him… And suddenly, it all felt so wrong. You’re alone here, but where was he? He didn’t get to be here with you. 

Somehow, through your vision that was muddled by your tears, you convinced yourself to go to the beach. Perhaps it’s the final page of his diary you never brought yourself to read, the one he wrote the night before the Shibuya incident. 

“If anything happens, I’ll be waiting for them by the ocean.”

The calming sounds of the waves instantly reached your ears, and you took your sandals off before stepping onto the warm sand. With each step, the sand slots itself in between your toes, a tingling feeling you’ll probably never get rid of. You knew you’d never find him here. Maybe at the bottom of the ocean, he’d be waiting for you as a siren. 

The breeze of the ocean blew by, sticking to your hair. You walked towards the ocean and stepped into the water, shivering from how cold it was. You then crouched down and dipped your finger into the waves, and for a moment, you hesitated before bringing it to your mouth and licking it. You almost immediately regret your decision, laughing at yourself for how idiotic you must have looked. 

You breathed out heavily after, before trying your hardest to put on a genuine smile and smiling at the ocean.

“It’s salty.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

[saikagerights]

Lay Me Down to Rest - Entry for Day of MirSan 2021

Hello there! And welcome to my first Inuyasha fanfiction, as apart of the @dayofmirsan event. 

I initially was planning to be an observer of the event, but sudden inspiration struck at 1am during my nightly routine of falling asleep to Inuyasha. Rewatching the Monkey Sprite episode is interesting for many reasons. For one, there was an unhealthy amount of filler added into the anime adaptation of this story-line, which gave hit-or-miss comedy. But the most important thing is that Miroku and Sango are mostly unaccounted for in this story-line, which gives shippers like me an opportunity to write some “off-screen development” for them. And though the anime does give us an idea, I’m afraid that Miroku’s indifference and frustrated edge in the scene feels a bit off, so I decided to add a bit of a bit of context. Consider this a bit of a fusion between the anime in manga, though the scene is based off of the anime. Also I was very liberal with my use of English/Japanese dub terminology. I watched the anime in English, but switched over to the manga to replace the Final Act, so it’s a bit inconsistent. 

I’ve been observing this fandom from afar ever since I started getting into Inuyasha back in December, and though I wanted to try and engage with it, it seemed very daunting given this fandom’s age and organization. But I’m very grateful that I was given the chance to participate in this event, and lucky that inspiration struck me at the right time. I’ve really been looking forward to seeing the works that come out of this event, and I hope you enjoy my contribution. 

And thanks for the mods for allowing me to share my work with you fellow fans

InuYasha and it’s properties are owned by creator Rumiko Takahashi and Sunrise 

Read on AO3

Sango tailed the monk as he led their investigation. The villagers they had asked so far had no knowledge of the wicked demon, only of the pestering monkeys that were ravaging their fields. Her companion simply nodded, thanking them for their time and promising that the Inugami would save their village. They soon found themselves at the outskirts of the village on an empty patch of land outside the forest, save for one tall tree. Sango found his behavior during their search to be strange, especially as he now paused at the tree, leaving his Shakujo leaning against its trunk.

Was he just as stumped as she was? Would this reprieve be a chance for them to rethink their approach? 

“Why have we stopped here, Miroku?” She questioned. “Aren’t we supposed to search for Naraku’s whereabouts?”

Her befuddlement heightened as he laid his body to rest in the grass underneath the shade of the tree with a sigh, both hands pillowing his head. His intentions then became clear at the sight of his eyelids slipping shut.

“How might we do that when we have neither Inuyasha’s nose or Kagome’s detection?” His tone reflected his relaxed poise. “I merely said that so that Inuyasha would be more inclined to help those villagers.”

Her head tilted downward towards the monk’s resting face. “I understand wanting to help, but do you honestly think that Inuyasha dealing with those monkeys will get us any closer to finding him?

“Not particularly.” He punctuated the off-handed remark with a yawn, overstating his disinterest. “But enough of that... Why don’t you join me here?”

She stood awestruck at his bold request. He lays there while their friends were helping this poor village and now he asks her to do the same? If Inuyahsa were to find out, he’d surely have more pressing things to worry about than the food security of the village. 

“I don’t think it would be wise, considering your flippant lies.”

The man remained still, no sign of concern disrupting his posture. 

“If you changed back into your battle attire before our return, they’d never suspect a thing.” He ignored her statement, a peaceful smile casually appearing on his face. She instantly recognized this move. He was fully convinced he would get his way, the sleazy crook. “Besides, I’m sure sleep has been as kind to you as it has been to me as of late.”

Although it was usually hard to detect amongst his manner of speaking, the monk’s sarcasm was not missed by the slayer. She knew very well that Naraku’s sudden disappearance had their whole group on edge, including herself. And while sleep had become its own battle, the desperate investigations of their enemy have left her distracted from everything else. Sleep meant the rest needed to fight again, but it also meant time alone with one’s most intimate thoughts. What always plagued her mind nowadays were things she’d rather not willingly engage. Finding Naraku should be her biggest concern now, but she indulged her companion despite what she would consider was her better judgement.

The monk had a particular talent for steering her away from rationality.

“Knowing your pervy ways, I’m sure you’d try and sneak a peek at me”

The monk could’ve never noticed the sneer on her face behind his still-closed eyes. The same smile was plastered on his face as well, despite her accusation. He really did enjoy giving her grief, didn’t he...

“Trust me, my dear. I have no intention of moving from this spot for a while. Or at least until Inuyasha comes for my head.”

 “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I left Kilala here to guard this spot until I returned.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t mind at all. I’m sure she’d love to watch me lie here, right Kilala?”  

Sango looked to the nekomata, who merely chuffed in response. She was wary of Kilala’s strange trust in the monk at times, but she was sure that the demon would keep an eye on him in case he tried something funny. 

Miroku took this as the perfect time to reveal his indigo eyes to her. 

 “Please, my intentions are more honorable than what they seem, believe me.”

There it was, that gentle voice of his used to convince her of his authenticity. The same breathy tones that sent her heart racing and her stomach in somersaults. She knew Miroku was confident in his charms, but she also liked to think that he was fully aware of this game they played. She only came to grips with it recently, but there was something going on. 

They’d fight, they’d talk it through, and just when she thought he would try to make a move, that damn hand of his would find the wrong place to caress. Or it would be when she found herself grieving once more, and he could comfort her with his words alone. How did he always know what to say that made everything clear and could heal every fiber of her being, but also had a hand that never failed to do the exact opposite? He was a truly frustrating man, but he was the only one she ever considered more than just that. 

But did he really know? That was a puzzle Sango couldn’t solve. It wasn’t as if anything meaningful resulted from these escapades. Afterwards, they would act as if nothing happened, and he would return to his typical flirtatious ways with any woman that entered his line of sight. So Sango liked to think that Miroku fully knew that he was toying with her feelings. That way it made it easier to lower her expectations and resent them despite Kagome’s not-so-subtle prodding. 

When she became abruptly aware that her eyes had been locked on him for too long, she made her hasty retreat, hoping he didn’t catch her bright red flush in the shade of the tree. 

“This man will be the death of me,” she softly cursed herself as soon as she knew she left his earshot. 

_______________________________________________________________

Upon her return to their little “spot,” she was greeted by an alert Miroku. His body was now fully upright and turned towards her approaching form. 

“You’ve accepted my invitation, I see”

“I thought you were trying to sleep”

“I still am, but I’d figured it would help if I got a quick glimpse of your beauty before-hand.”

She rolled her eyes at his shameless attempt. “You really are troublesome, you know that?”

“You wound me, dear Sango!” He unceremoniously flopped back into his previous position, his left hand patting the spot next to him. “You are free to lie beside me if you wish.” 

Without the need for consideration, she silently opted to sit against Kilala’s curled form, stretching her legs in front of her. He managed to convince her to relax alongside him, but she had no intention of allowing herself to get too comfortable around him in the likely case the monk’s wandering hands wandered once more. He sighed audibly at her decision, but allowed his eyes to close again without any further word. He could act like a child all he wanted, but she would not budge. 

She watched the man for a while, observing his state of rest. She could tell as much that he hadn’t fallen asleep just yet by all of his idle noises and the way he kept trying to steal a glance in her direction. 

“Can’t sleep?”

She hadn’t even tried to close her eyes just yet, as she was still trying to grasp their current situation. Why was he so insistent on sleeping if he was just going to try and stare at her the entire afternoon? Why did he lie to Inuyasha in the first place if this was how they would spend their time? With all these questions moving around in her head, she might as well ask for the most basic of them.

“Miroku? Why do you lie and steal as casually as you do? I always thought that monks were pure-hearted.”

“What a wonderful question!” He exclaimed. With such enthusiasm, she was almost afraid of the answer she would soon receive from him. “I’ve been traveling on my own for so long, and it’s quite difficult to acquire wealth in such unfortunate times. I wish to give aid to those in need, but I also believe that it never hurts to help yourself as well.” He settled for an even tone and let his eyes slip open once more. 

 “And you are right, It is true that holy-people such as myself are meant to be free of sin. But,  I was born tainted by the hole that resides in my hand.” His voice tapered off at his pause, the newfound silence growing thick with each passing moment. His sound returned to him, soft and low, as if it were only meant for his ears alone. 

“It doesn’t matter how much I devote myself to my faith to any idol or deity. My curse is hell-bent on deciding my fate....”

But we are trying to stop Naraku! To free you from the Kazaana. You can always change your path after that! She immediately contested, perhaps a little too loudly, but she didn’t care. How dare he speak so little of himself and avoid her gaze as he did it?! She refused to accept his belittling statements. 

“It is very hard for me to see a future for myself at this time, I’m afraid…” He brought his head up to look at her. A flash of fear ran through his eyes before he looked down once more. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t speak like that.”

He’s afraid…

And he had every right to be. 

“Please don’t apologize.”

He never showed it in front of their group, but behind that calm and smooth exterior remained a man trembling under the weight of his own mortality. He was a man after all, and men were never to show what made them most vulnerable. But with how much he gives to help others, it feels unfair for him to just allow himself to suffer inside as he did.

 If they understood each other as well as he liked to claim, then she knew he hated the restless feeling they had knowing nothing of where their wicked nemesis resided, surely plotting something to exploit the fears he caused within their hearts. Knowing that her poor brother remained in that demon’s grasp sickened her to her core, and sitting around with no leads made it hard to lay dormant as they did now. 

“I get it. I am just as frustrated as you… About Kohaku-”

“-You don’t need to go any further” He  interrupted her thoughts, I didn’t mean to remind you of your pain like that.”

 “Miroku-” 

 “-Please,” he sharply cut in once more, hoarseness settling into his throat. He must’ve noticed it as well, as he cleared his throat soon after. “let’s just try to find rest while we still can.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly trying to force unconsciousness upon himself. Sango relented, trying to relax her body, idly stroking Kilala as she watched the man slowly succumb to rest. It was surreal to see him struggle like this when it seemed like meditation was second nature to him. She decided on trying for sleep once his breathing evened out and all the remaining tension left his face. 

________________________________________________________________

Miroku wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but he could tell from the shadows before him had grown considerably when his eyes peered open. He turned his head to see Sango now curled up against Kilala, her face all but buried in her demon companion’s fur. He slowly rose to his feet, slightly stretching as he made an intake of his surroundings. It looked as if the sun would soon begin it’s retreat from the sky. The monk knew the rest was necessary, but he definitely didn’t look forward to another predictively sleepless night. 

One more glance at Sango’s sleeping form was enough to convince him to approach her, neglecting his Shakujo to silence his movements. He knew, probably better than anybody, of the threat imposed by the slayer’s attuned senses. He also knew the danger of being caught if she awoke to his gawking. Unfortunately it was a risk he was willing for one small fleeting moment to stare at her.

What an idiot he had been for making her sympathize with his life. Even worse that it reminded her of her own grief. He was happy to indulge her curiosity, but when he looked up at her, he turned cowardly at what he saw. It wasn’t fear, or sadness over his grim fate. It was the very same fire that lit behind her eyes in battle. 

She was prepared to fight for him, it seemed…

He dare not think that she would go any farther for that. He was not worth her death. In fact, nothing was worth her death. The honor of her clan was at stake, and her life was essential in carrying on their legacy. One measly itinerant monk with a fated death should be worthless in her eyes, even if he wanted nothing more than to keep her alive.

Even if he wanted more than anything to see a future with her.

He turned away from her, returning to his spot in a now seated position. The monk had half a mind to wake the woman, but decided against it. Every waking moment for her was its own battle, after all. She needed all the rest she could get. And he’d gladly wait for her until that battle resumed, and fight with her at every step.

And if dying for her now meant he could spend the next life by her side, then he would welcome death with open arms. 

“I hope this woman is the death of me,” he softly wished before all else melted away to his own meditation.

______________________________________________________________

Yeah I realized I took some liberties here with how Miroku and Sango’s relationship was at this point. This episode takes place after the Temptress of the Mist and Demon-Head castle, but far behind Mt. Hakurei, so what was going on with them hadn’t really become a “pattern” just yet. And Miroku had just comforted her in her grieving state for the first time right before that. Sango wasn’t deep enough to say he was her reason for living, so that’s why I kept her on the fence and didn’t have her feel too disappointed, because that’s what came after Mt Hakurei. 

I’m a sucker for long winded perspective changes, especially here with all the parallels I draw between them. Some of my best lines were written here, especially the ending line. My GOD. I swear, I wrote that and everything made sense. I said “yes” over and over again, it was so good.

Also can you tell whose voice I’m talking about when describing Miroku’s? The answer is Koji Tsujitani. I always knew about Tsujitani’s delivery that makes Miroku sound truly “fake” but I noticed rather recently how he would add so much breath, especially in serious scenes. On the other hand, Kirby Morrow played the character down and deep in his throat, which isn’t bad when talking about his overall performance, but I decided to favor Tsujitani’s performance in this instance. 

(I’m a classically trained singer and a music education major, so I’m a nut for analyzing voice acting. I have respect for both of these men may they rest in peace.)

Thanks again for the opportunity, and I hope to write more for this series. 

-Saikage

[simpsiren]

rooftop star.

jung jaehyun x reader

Every time I look up in the sky. There's not a single star. It's alright, you're my universe, shine bright for me

main masterlist

description: you realised that love can bloom basically anywhere when you met a guy who entered your comfort space of the rooftop one day.

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers au

warnings: none

word count: 3,744

a/n: this idea just came to my mind while listening to rooftop by n.flying so i hope you guys will enjoy! if you guys have any requests or feedback please let me know :D

for a long time, you and your two close friends, Alex and James, wanted to go away from your home country. some place new and fresh, to start a better live. now you guys are finally living in your dreams of wanting to move to london, it didnt exactly turn out the way you wanted to, well it did. at least for a year.

now, you are just laying down on the long and wide wooden bench at your apartment's rooftop, looking at the sky like what you would do any other night, with your unfinished assignment scattered beside you along with your opened laptop with a blank screen. you would come to visit the rooftop every night, unless you had plans with Alex and James or errands to run of course.

no matter the weather, no matter the situation, you would always head there. in your opinion, you fet that you spent more time up at the rooftop than in your own apartment. its just something about the atmosphere of the place. no one ever came to the rooftop when you were there, the clear plastic that covers the entire rooftop to protect you when it rains, and the sky. you loved looking at the sky. whether there were shining starts filling up the sky or a black void of nothingness, you felt comfort in just looking at it. you felt as though.. it filled your loneliness since you werent able to meet your friends as often anymore as they were too preoccupied with their separate lives. you didnt have any other friends, nor did you bother to find some. you were fine with being alone, only because the sky was able to accompany you 24/7.

it was currently 1am, you sighed and you continued to lay down on the wooden bench with your forearms below your head. you tilted your head. you noticed here were stars. although it wasnt shining brightly, you were still able to see them. you turned your head sideways to face the papers that were all over the place besde you. you graoned as you forced yourself to sit up, gathering all the strength and brain power you had to complete the one assignment that your lecturer gave you for the week. you were already almost done so you might as well finish it by tonight so that you coukd have a break for the rest of the week. you pulled your computer towards you and took a deep breathe before getting back to work after a 30 minute rest from looking at the sky.

you were blasting out music while you were doing your work sincd you left your earpiece at your apartment. the music you listened to had you bobbing your head slolwy to the beat, the calming rhythm pushing you to do your work. just before the next song was about to play, you flinched at a voice that sounded like there was someone standing at the enterance of the rooftop.

"paris in the rain by lauv."

you tilted your head to the direction of the voice, shocked to see a man standing there. you couldnt see him clearly due to the darkness but you could make out that he was a tall man. "im sorry?" you questioned, gaping your mouth open slightly and raising an eyebrow. this was the first ever time you have seen someone coming up to the rooftop. you kept silent as you watched the unknown man walking towards you, his appearence becomig more clear as he stepped out of the darkness and entered the light of the rooftop. "the song you played. it was nice." the man said in a polite and slightly cheerful tone as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and placed his weight on his right leg. you looked at him up and down skeptically. he had light brown hair. he was wearing a plain dark blue hoodie and jeans.

"what are you doing here?" you asked him again, still stunned by how even a radom person showed up here. "you mean i cant enter?" he casually asked you back as he sat down on the floor. you wondered why till you noticed that the whole wooden bench you were sitting on was filled with your papers laying around.you closed your laptop and shook your head slightly. "no i mean i literaly locked the door. how did you-"

"i guess me being a locksmith has come in handy for once in my life." you heard him chuckle softly as he looked down on the floor before looking up at you. "please leave." you murmured softly as you grabbed a piece of paper near you and started writing something on it for your assignment. "this is a public place, you know? but it looks like youve made it your own." you glanced up from the paper to him, noticing that he was looking around the rooftop and looking at the decorations you put up such as fairy lights and lanterns.

“who are you?” another question pops out of your mouth. “you have way too many questions now dont you? alright im jung jaehyun, 23 years old.” the man now you know as jaehyun grins widely as he put his hand out to offer a handshake. “olivier rings.” you simply replied, not even bothering to shake his hand. jaehyun clicks his tongue and puts his hand back down to his lap. “nice name. so, why are you here at this ho-“

you immediately cut him off. “why dont you tell me why are you here? i am aware this is a public space but no one has ever came here till you showed up and i am very uncomfortable with talking to strangers. please leave.” you watched as his face grow dark and emotionless. you clearly made him upset, but he was quick to force a soft smile. “im staying here. you seem like someone i can vibe with.” jaehyun shrugged and lifted his head up to look at the sky through the plastic dome. you laughed softly. “you sure you can vibe with someone like me?” you whispered under your breathe and you lay down on the wooden bench once again, looking up at the sky just like how jaehyun was.

the both of you were silent for at least 20 minutes, not interacting, just admiring the sky with full focus. “i think i should get going. i have a lecture tomorrow.” you sat up straight and yawned, waiting for jaehyun to respond. jaehyun tilted his head back down to face you and nodded in approval.

you stood up from the wooden bench and began packing up, picking up every piece of paper on the bench and placing them in your tote bag. you felt jaehyun’s presence beside you as he assisted you in gathering up your papers and handing them to you. you let out a soft ‘thank you’ before carrying your tote bag over your shoulder and holding the laptop in your arms. “i have the keys to lock the rooftop but i certain someone apparently got through it.” you rolled your eyes as you walked over to the exit of the rooftop that leads to a flight of stairs. you heard jaehyun chuckled as he followed behind you. “ill come by to fix the lock tomorrow, dont worry.”

jaehyun was quick to open the door before you do and turn to you to give you one last smile before going down the stairs and disappearing into the darkness. you stood at the exit for awhile, thinkig over what you have just encountered with a stranger named jaehyun. you sighed, hoping to not see him again as you turned off the switches to the fairy lights at the bottom right of the exit door and left.

the next day, you had just got home from your morning lecture. luckily for you, the major you took only had a fews days of the week when you had to attend for lectures. other than that, you would just complete your assigned work at home, giving you the opportunity to work in your comfort space aka the rooftop.

it was a nice day today since that after the lecture, you did not have much work to do and decided to take the day off. you went to the donut shop nearby your apartment to get your favourite donut, one that you would buy at least once every two weeks when you are free. today is your lucky day.

you head straight to the rooftop with your donut in hand. you figured that you didnt have to vsit your apartment since you have everything you need up at the rooftop. you have a place where you can lay down comfortably, you have all your necessities im your bag such as a portable, your laptop and the whole rooftop just felt like your second home. you opened the door, knowing that there was no lock anymore due to the man named jaehyun who broke it and entered the rooftop.

you released a deep long sigh of relief as you bask in the light coming from the sun, closing your eyes for a moment as your head tilts up to the sky. you stayed there for a moment before walking towards the large wooden plank that you call your bench and bed area and instantly lay down on it. well, it had a thin white mattress over it, with a huge furry yellow pillow. while decorating the rooftop, you really wanted to make it as comfortable as possible, and for the purpose of in case you sleep through the night on top there, which you have done several times.

you placed your bag beside the so called bed and looked at your phone. it was evening at this point and the sunset was just about to come. you sat up straight and took a bite of your donut before reaching to the small area that is between the bench and the edge of the rooftop to take out your portable speaker. you kept it hidden in case anyone comes into the rooftop but you have it charge in your apartment once in awhile. you connected your phone to the speaker with bluetooth and blasted music from your ‘chill playlist’ on spotify. the first song playing was by pink sweats. you hummed the lyrics and bobbed your head as you took another bite of the donut in one hand and look through your social media with your phone on the other. you instantly look up from your phone from you heard the door open.

you see a tall man. this time you were fully able to know who he was in broad daylight. “jung jaehyun.” you looked down beside him to see him carrying what looked like bubble tea, for two? “i knew you’d be here.” you licked your dry lips as you folded your arms and watch him walk over to the bench, placing the drinks on your foldable dining table beside it and took a seat next to you. you moved to the side a little to make a small gap between you two, still unsure if you could event trust him just yet. “how’d you know i would be here?” you asked him as you folded your legs.

“judging from the rooftop thing you have going on, it looked like you come here often. most people like to come up to rooftops to look at the scenery. sunsets, night skies and such.” jaehyun shrugged calmingly, extending his arm over you, to which you backed your body away a little, noticing that he was reaching for the bubble tea. he grabbed it and took a sip. “so i made an intelligent guess that you would be here to watch that.” you heard jaehyun chewing on the drink’s pearls in his mouth as he pointed his drink.

you looked towards the direction he was pointing at the see a beautiful sunset arising. you gaped your mouth in awe, the song in the background making the whole atmosphere more fitting. you softly smiled and chuckled, grabbing the other bobble tea on the table and poking a straw into it before taking a sip. “im guessing this is for me?” jaehyun turns to you when he heard the noise of the straw poking through. he nodded his head as he swallowed the last pearl that was in his mouth. “for breaking your lock.” you hummed as you watched the sunset.

“it looks so beautiful.” you whispered, just loud enough for jaehyun to hear. you heard jaehyun sigh in satisfaction. “definitely.” you and jaehyun took a sip of your bubble tea drinks.

“get me brown sugar milk tea next time.” you told jaehyun. your turned towards him when you heard him scoff with a smile. “what?” you asked in annoyance. “you want me to come back here again? says the one that told me to leave yesterday.” jaehyun rolled his eyes. you let out a ‘tsk’ in response. “well of course i told you to leave. i didn’t know you at all yesterday.” you argued back.

the sun has now set completely and the sky became dark. “so you assume you know me now?” jaehyun raised an eyebrow with a smirk appearing on his lips. “that’s wasnt what i meant- jeez you’re so hard to talk to.” you huffed and ran your hand through your hair as you admitted defeat, too tired to even argue with a man you just met.

“mind if i stay here till midnight or something? i have no other plans tonight, i have to fix that lock of yours, and this place really is a nice spot to look at the stars.” you stared at him as you hard what he said. does he like to look at the stars like you do? maybe he wouldn’t be so hard to vibe with after all.

that night, you and jaehyun talked for hours while looking at the night sky. you found that that he recently moved into the apartment next to yours and he was working a bookstore nearby. the habit that you and jaehyun share of looking at the sky was what started your whole friendship. little by little, the two of your grew closer and closer together. you two carried on with your separate lives of course, but you and him will always spend time together, even if it meant one minute, to meet at your rooftop and admire the scenery of your town, counting every star you see in the sky together, and even looking down, observing the people that walked by, making intelligent guesses on what they work as based on what they were wearing or how their lives looked liked.

by 6 months of being friends with jaehyun, the friendship became more intense, in the physical way. one day, jaehyun caught you crying as he entered the rooftop. you later told him that Alex got into an accident and was badly injured. jaehyun hugged you close to him to comfort you. of course, that is what anyone would have done if they seen you crying, screaming, and balling your eyes out. but with jaehyun, you felt safe and secured in his hug. just the way he hugged your body, gently brushing his hand through your hair as he talked about the stars and came up with goofy stories as to how each star came to be. you laughed with the way he comfort you as he looked down to stare at your eyes, fully immersed into you.

“if you need me, ill be here. ill be like the rooftop, your very own comfort space.” a single tear rolled down your cheek as your bit your lip, fully aware that your eyes are red and sore from crying too much. jaehyun brings his thumb up to get rid of the tear before pulling you in once more, your face landing on his shoulder as you were finally able to calm your body and let it rest against his, melting away at his warm touch.

“jaehyun?” you looked at jaehyun, who you have been cuddling with since 8pm. “what is it, oli?” jaehyun asked back, patting your head as his grip around your waist got tighter to bring your closer to him. “i dont see any stars out tonight. why did you keep talking about them?” you questioned jaehyun. the whole time you were together with him today, he talked as if there were millions of stars in the sky, but every time you look up, you dont see a single one. you just saw a blank black sky.

jaehyun chuckled as the brushed a few strands of hair behind your back. “ever since i met you, no matter what the sky looked like every night, i still see stars. not the ones in the sky, but the ones in your eyes.” jaehyun sighed as he brought his hand to cup your cheek. you stared at him, your eyes froze as you made eye contact with him, not fully aware of what he was talking about. “im aware there isnt a single star out tonight, but its alright. you’re my universe, so shine bright for me.” you blinked at him. he has always said flowery words to you for fun, but the look in his eyes felt like he meant those words seriously. you hummed, out of not exactly knowing what to reply. “you’ll find out what i mean.” was all jaehyun said as he suddenly noticed you falling asleep in his arms.

the next day, you woke up, you winced at the sun shining brightly as it blinded your eyes. you rubbed your eyes before sitting up straight. you realised jaehyun was gone. that’s weird to be frank, normally if you fell asleep, he would be there for you the moment you wake up. whether he was cuddling you close, or brought out to buy you breakfast. you shrugged and moved on with your day, thinking that he would be back by tonight.

wrong, he didn’t show up. every night, you waited and waited mindlessly, thinking that he would pop up at the door of the rooftop. you didn’t know where he went or what he was doing during the time he was gone and it made you worried sick. it felt as though he left you for no reason. your comfort space left, and you didn’t know what to do without it. the rooftop doesn’t feel the same without the presence of jaehyun. as time went on, you still carried on with your routine of sitting by the rooftop, but you felt an aching in your heart every time you step into it. “this used to be my comfort space, along with you. so why did you have to go?” you questioned yourself, one year after his disappearance.

one day, you were hugging your knees close to your chest as you cradled yourself slowly, while looking up at the stars. “its alright. you’re my universe, so shine bright for me.” the last important words that jaehyun said kept replaying in your head, still wondering what he meant by that. you took a quick look around your rooftop. “fuck.” you whispered as you broke down in tears, noticing how much you miss jaehyun. the feelings of your love for him only grew as time went on and you couldn’t hold it in no more. you needed him here, right now.

“oli.” you heard your name being called at the entrance of the rooftop. you immediately jolted your head towards the door. you see someone standing there, and you know exactly who it was. “jaehyun..” you whispered as you watched jaehyun emerge from the shadows, revealing himself after being missing for over a year. you broke down even more, letting your eyes run dry as you cried out loudly, screaming jaehyun name. jaehyun instantly ran towards you and hugged you, a feeling that you longed for too long. “sh sh oli. its okay, im finally back.” jaehyun lightly kisses your ear as he ducks his head into your neck. you cried into his chest as his shirts started to soak in your tears.

“where.. where did you go? i fucking missed you.” you murmured as you looked up at jaehyun, who’s eyes immediately softened as he looked at your crying face. he wipes the excess tears on your cheeks dry with the end of his sweater and sighed. “i had to move out of the country to visit my sick mother. since she was feeling better after a year, i headed back here.” you felt his hand on your head as soothing his hand over your hair like the good old days. you really missed him. his presence, his touch. everything. “you didn’t tell me you were leaving.”

you looked down as you played with his sweater, fiddling your fingers with it. however, jaehyun brings his hand to connect with your interlocking the fingers of both of your hands with his. he brought your interlocking hands up in front of you. “princess, i hinted at you, didnt i?” you blinked at him as you tilted his head, the last words that he gave before he went away popped in your head. “what do you mean by shine bright for you?” you asked jaehyun as you frowned. jaehyun dropped his hands, along with yours to your lap, his face moving closer in your lips were just inches apart.

“it meant that no matter where you are, if i look at the most brightest star in the sky, ill be reminded of you. it also meant that you should have faith that ill come back to you, since you’re my universe, and my only brightest star.” with that jaehyun pulled you in by your waist, brushing his lips against yours before bringing you into a soft and gentle kiss. you kissed him back as you melted into him, fully letting him deepen the kiss. you closed your eyes in satisfaction as you smiled into the kiss. you leaned in closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you pulled away for a moment as you stared at his face. “then shine bright for me as well, jung jaehyun.”

“as i will.” you pulled him in for another kiss. who knew that a love like this can be made from meeting at a rooftop?

[calumcest]

dancing with the demons (holy spirit, holy spirit)

[ao3]

yes its 1am yes i just finished this fic yes i am exhausted yes i currently have an exam i should be doing looks like Helen’s Deadline Season Coping Mechanism is back in full swing 

i have to give my everlasting thanks to @ashesonthefloor and @clumsyclifford for their chaotic minds providing me excellent ideas and for always being so supportive of the things i write and motivating me to keep writing and also especially to ainslee for patiently listening to me talk about this for like the past three weeks before i could actually write it 

also this VERY very loosely based on christianity but as you will see: VERY. VERY. loosely 

-

“You’re kind of a shitty demon,” he tells Calum, who scowls.

“Fuck you,” he says. “You’re kind of a shitty angel.”

“Oh, dude, I know,” Michael agrees.

-

Humans, Michael thinks sourly, wouldn’t be nearly as interested in getting to Heaven if they knew Ashton were in there. 

He means well, Michael knows that, and he’s just doing his job, but that doesn’t make it any less irritating when Michael gets Summoned twice a week to answer for whatever petty crime he’s committed this time. So sue him, he forgot witchcraft was sacrilege, and forgot that astrology falls under that umbrella, and he’d been amused when he’d seen a lady claiming to be able to tell him what was in store for him next year, and he’d had ten dollars on him. He’s thousands of years old, how the fuck is he supposed to remember every tiny rule? Plus, he thinks, cocking his head, she’d told him that a colleague would present difficulties for him, and the way Ashton’s ranting right now is just vindicating the poor woman.

“...set an example, Michael,” Ashton’s saying, when Michael tunes back in. “You were an archangel. You have to be better.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Ashton, I swear to God-” Ashton slaps his hand down on the table. 

“That’s exactly your fucking problem!” he says furiously, and then tenses as he realises what he’s said. Michael can feel the repentance washing over Ashton, the genuine purity of it, and it makes him wince a little bit. Ashton clears his throat, and tries again. “You can’t be blaspheming like that. You’re an angel, Michael. You have free will, and you know what a double-edged sword that is.” Michael folds his arms, wings ruffling defensively. Ashton’s always so fucking hot on how dangerous free will is, like he’s had some kind of bad experience with it, and Michael doesn’t get it. Ashton’s never stepped more than a centimetre out of line in his entire life. 

“I’m loyal to Him,” he says firmly. “He knows that.” Are you questioning Him? remains unspoken, but rings loud in the air between them.  

“I know,” Ashton says wearily. “But He did demote you. Again.” 

“I mean, I did give the Son an onion disguised as an apple,” Michael points out. Ashton glares at him. 

“Are you trying to make this worse for yourself?” he demands, and Michael holds his hands up in defence. 

“Not my fault Jesus doesn’t have a sense of humour,” he mutters, under his breath so Ashton can pretend not to have heard it. He still thinks it was hilarious, made even more so by the connotation of original sin. Maybe the fact he hasn’t repented is why He keeps letting Michael get reamed out by Ashton for the smallest fucking things. 

“You’re lucky He didn’t count that as a rebellion” Ashton tells him. Michael rolls his eyes. 

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Ash?” he says, spreading his hands, ignoring the way Ashton flinches at the curse word. “I’m sorry? I repent? Forgive me Ashton, for I have sinned?” Ashton sighs, but chooses not to comment on the sarcasm. 

“I’m assigning you another case,” he says instead, “and you’d better not mess this one up.” Michael groans, and Ashton gives him a sharp look. “You’re always free to leave, Michael. You know that.” Michael tips his head back to stare at the ceiling and lets his eyes flutter shut, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” he mumbles. He hears paper sliding across Ashton’s desk, and pinches the bridge of his nose for a minute, inhaling deeply, before forcing his head back forwards to see the file Ashton’s pushed at him. 

“A demon,” Ashton says. 

“Oh, for fu- for Go- uh, for goodness’ sake,” Michael says hurriedly, when he sees the look Ashton sends his way. “Seriously, Ash? A demon?” Ashton shrugs. 

“You want to act like a kid, you get treated like a kid,” he says. Michael exhales heavily, and picks up the file, flicking it open to the first page. 

“Calum?” he says sceptically. “What kind of a name for a demon is that?” 

“You’d do well to remember who named him,” Ashton reminds him, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“He doesn’t look very threatening,” he remarks, flicking through Calum’s file. “What, a couple of possessions, a few cases of muteness...c’mon, Ash, this is well below my pay grade.” 

“Firstly,” Ashton says, in that tone that says I don’t like what you just said at all but I’m going to be the bigger angel here, “you don’t have a pay grade, and secondly, you’ll take what you’re given.” 

“I know, but c’mon, this?” Michael says, waving the file in Ashton’s face. “You could deal with this in two minutes, Ashton, why send me after him?” Ashton presses his lips together and looks away, and Michael cocks his head, realisation dawning on him. “Oh, shit. He’s sending me after him.” 

“You know I can’t comment on that,” Ashton says, but his wings twitch uncomfortably and he doesn’t even tell Michael off for cursing, so Michael knows he’s right. 

“What does He want me to do this for?” Michael asks curiously. 

“The Lord moves in a mysterious way,” Ashton says primly, which is his go-to response when he knows the answer but doesn’t want to say it. Michael sits back in his seat heavily, grinning. 

“Okay,” he says, nodding. “Yeah. I’ll take the case.” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“You’ll do as He darn well says,” he tells Michael, who grins. 

“I’ll do as I damn well please,” he says, and Ashton just sighs in defeat. 

 -------

 The first time Michael finds Calum, he’s loosening lug nuts on car wheels in the dead of night. 

He’s knelt on the floor, spanner in his hand, humming something to himself as he works. Michael leans against a car behind him, folding his arms, and watches him for a while, watches the way he bobs his head to the song in his head, taps his fingers on the spanner, grins to himself when the lug nut loosens enough for him to move onto the next one.  

“Man, what kind of demon uses a spanner?” Michael comments after a few minutes. Calum spins around, on his feet at the speed of light, eyes black, teeth bared. Michael just gives him a bored look. 

“Who are you?” Calum hisses. Michael cocks an eyebrow. 

“Don’t recognise me?” he says, and Calum just growls at him. “Damn, how long were you in Heaven? Two minutes?” 

“Who the fuck are you?” Calum spits. Michael sighs, pretending he’s not enjoying this as much as he is, and lets his wings unfold, big and pure white behind him. Calum’s eyes widen, still all-black but with an edge of fear, and he takes a step back. Michael tries his best not to smirk.

“You’re not an angel,” Calum says, sounding like he’s trying to reassure himself. 

“Aren’t I?” Michael says coolly, tucking his wings back in. They feel a little cramped, but he’s made his point, and it’s cold. 

“You said damn,” Calum says, still a little afraid, but also a little confused. Michael shrugs. 

“I have free will,” he says. “Perks of being an angel.” Calum stares at him, and his eyes flash back to looking human again. Michael can’t see too well in the poor light, but they’re still dark, maybe a deep brown, and there’s some sort of a spark in them that makes Michael’s stomach flip. 

He can see Calum a little better now as his eyes adjust to the dark, can see the black jeans and black leather jacket and thin black t-shirt hugging his muscular physique, can see what looks like tattoos on his hands and collarbones and can’t help but wonder whether there are more to be found. 

And yeah, that’s a dangerous train of thought, so he stops himself firmly, allowing himself a sigh. Of course He’s saddled Michael with the hottest demon to walk the realms. 

“Whose car is that?” Michael asks, nodding at the car Calum’s been working on. Calum’s eyes linger on him for a moment, like he doesn’t trust that Michael’s not going to attack him the minute he blinks, and then looks over at the wheels. 

“Don’t know,” he says. 

“You’re trying to fuck with someone you don’t even know?” Calum shrugs, eyes flicking back to Michael. 

“Why not?” he says. Michael narrows his eyes.

“You know fucking with humans is, like, bad, right?” he says. 

“For you,” Calum says, and there’s a glimmer of wicked amusement behind his dark eyes. Michael swallows. “Don’t know if you’ve heard, but my boss isn’t so hot on all of those kinds of rules.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Michael says darkly, because if there’s anyone from Hell Michael’s well-acquainted with, it’s the Devil. Calum, who seems to have now decided that Michael’s had his chance to kill him and hasn’t, casts him one final glance before picking up the spanner, twirling it in his hands (Michael chants a prayer to keep the thoughts about Calum’s fingers at bay), and kneeling at the next wheel. 

“Who are you?” Calum asks again. 

“Michael,” Michael says, as Calum starts twisting the lug nuts the wrong way, tightening them instead of loosening them. “That’s the wrong way, man.” 

“Fuck,” Calum mutters, and starts twisting the other way. Michael cocks his head. 

“You’re kind of a shitty demon,” he tells Calum, who scowls.

“Fuck you,” he says. “You’re kind of a shitty angel.”

“Oh, dude, I know,” Michael agrees. 

“Aren’t you a fucking archangel? Michael?” 

“Used to be,” Michael says. “Got demoted.” Calum snorts. 

“Demoted?” 

“Yeah,” Michael says, with a sigh. “Big man doesn’t like it when you play practical jokes on the Son.” Calum laughs. 

“Yeah, you’re a really shitty angel,” he tells Michael, who bristles slightly. 

“Well, I did defeat Satan,” Michael says defensively. Calum grins, all wicked and sharp teeth. 

“Yeah, he’s mentioned,” he says, and then leans back from the wheel with a sigh. “Man, would you give me a hand?” Michael cocks his head. 

“I’m meant to be stopping you, dude,” he says. Calum rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not doing a very good job,” he says. Michael thinks he would do a much better job if Calum weren’t so fucking pretty. That’s kind of unfair, he thinks. It gives Calum an automatic advantage. 

“Stop it,” Michael says, and Calum laughs, tilting his head back, and Jesus Christ, Michael wants to mark up his neck. He sends a quick apology prayer to whoever might have heard that thought, and clears his throat. “Seriously, Calum. Stop.” 

“Or what?” Calum says, eyes glittering mischievously. “You’ll scowl at me?” Michael cocks his head, and the grin slips off Calum’s face as he starts to choke. He clutches at his throat, looking somewhere between confused and shocked. Michael lets it go on for a few more seconds, relishing the way Calum’s gasping for air, before he lets Calum go. Calum falls back on his heels heavily, a pained expression on his face.

“Stop it,” Michael says simply, and he hears the power in his own voice. Calum winces, head jerking down in a forced bow, and right, yeah, Michael forgot that holy power has that effect on demons. 

“Damn,” Calum says, looking up through inky lashes when Michael lets him go, voice hoarse, but eyes twinkling. “Didn’t take you for the kinky sort.” Ashton is going to string Michael up by his wings for the thoughts that follow that sentence. 

“Fuck you,” Michael says, scowling, as he sends up yet another apology prayer. Calum cocks an eyebrow, grinning. 

“If you’re offering,” he says, rubbing at his throat. Michael sighs to hide the please that’s probably written all over his face. 

“Don’t let me catch you again,” he says instead. 

“What, you’re not going to kill me?” Calum says, and he sounds a little surprised. Michael frowns at him. 

“You want me to?” 

“Just thought you would,” Calum says, shrugging. Michael hesitates.

“You’re not really that threatening, dude,” he says eventually. And you’re far too pretty to kill. “I think the world can handle you.” Calum scowls at him, and flips him off with his left hand, picking up the spanner again with his right. Michael wordlessly tightens all the lug nuts again with a surreptitious flick of his wrist. 

“See you next time, angel,” Calum says, slotting the spanner onto another lug nut. 

“Not if you know what’s good for you, demon,” Michael says, turning away and tipping his head back up to Heaven. He hears a grunt behind him as Calum tugs on the lug nut, and grins to himself. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, dude?” Calum cries, and it’s the last thing Michael hears before everything turns white. 

 -------

 The second time Ashton sends Michael after Calum, he finds him in a Starbucks. His leather jacket is hung across the chair behind him, and he’s staring at a guy a few metres away from him with a look of pure concentration on his face. Michael takes a moment to drink it in, because he looks really fucking cute and his biceps are, like, right there - and yeah, Michael was right about there being more tattoos - before sliding into the seat opposite Calum. Calum jumps, tearing his eyes away from the guy to Michael, scowling when he realises who it is. 

“Hey,” Michael says nonchalantly, reaching for Calum’s coffee and taking a sip. It’s, like, pure fucking caffeine, and he pulls a face, pushing it back to Calum. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Calum hisses. 

“According to my superior, you’re up to no good,” Michael says. “I’m here to stop you.” Calum rolls his eyes. 

“You’re no fucking fun,” he says. Michael shrugs, and reaches for Calum’s chocolate muffin. He’s always regretted not planting the idea of chocolate in the minds of humans earlier. 

“What were you trying to do?” he says, through a mouthful of muffin. 

“Why would I fucking tell you?” Calum says, folding his arms. “You’ll just undo it.” Michael raises an eyebrow, and swallows. 

“The guy’s tattoo,” he says. Calum scowls again. “What’d you do to it?” 

“It said Lisa,” Calum says sullenly. “Changed it to ‘Lice’.” Michael looks over at the guy’s tattoo again - and yeah, he does actually now have a heart with Lice in it proudly displayed on his arm. Michael can’t help the snort that escapes him. God, would Ashton kill him if he left that one as it is? The answer is almost a hundred percent, but he thinks it might still be worth it. 

“That is fucking funny,” Michael agrees. 

“Man, how the fuck are you still an angel?” Calum says, and Michael huffs out a laugh, taking another bite out of the muffin. Calum snatches the rest of it out of Michael’s hands. 

“This is my fucking muffin,” he says, waving the remnants of it in Michael’s face. Michael shrugs. 

“Steal yourself another one,” he says. 

“You steal yourself one,” Calum mutters. 

“I’m an angel, dude,” Michael says. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” Michael rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers as Calum raises the last bit of the muffin to his mouth. The muffin disappears and Calum bites down on thin air, looking confused for a split second before glowering at Michael. 

“What the fuck?” he demands. “Why’d you do that? That was a good fucking muffin.” Michael shrugs, grinning.

“For the hell of it,” he says, snapping his fingers again, and the muffin re-materialises in his hand. He throws it in the air, catching it in his mouth, and winks at Calum as he chews. Calum watches him, half in intrigue, half in outrage, mouth slightly open. He’s got such full lips, Michael thinks, and then hastily swallows both the muffin and that train of thought. 

“You’re the worst angel I’ve ever met,” Calum says decisively, sinking back in his seat. 

“You met many?” Michael asks casually. 

“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re the worst they’ve got,” Calum tells him. “I’m going to write a letter of recommendation to get you kicked out of He-” he winces. “Up there.” Michael cocks his head. 

“What’d you do to get kicked out?” he asks. 

“What do any of us do?” Calum says grumpily. “Exercise our free will.” 

“I exercise my free will,” Michael points out. 

“Yeah, to fucking swear,” Calum says. “You’re like that kid at school who gets an adrenaline rush from telling someone to shut up.” Michael scowls. 

“Fuck you,” he says, and Calum grins wickedly. 

“You kiss your Father with that mouth?” he says. Michael flips him off. 

“Right, well, this has been fun,” he says, wiping his hands on a napkin as he gets to his feet, “but I’ve got to get going. Stop fucking with humans.” 

“Man, you’d be way more fun if you weren’t an angel,” Calum says mournfully. 

“I dunno,” Michael says, mock-thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t get to do this then, would I?” He snaps his fingers, just for dramatic effect, and the Lice tattoo on the man’s arm rearranges itself to say Lisa again, and an identical heart with Lice appears on Calum’s bicep. Calum twists his arm around with a look of absolute horror.

“You absolute fucking bastard,” Calum shouts, making at least five people in the Starbucks turn around and give him a sharp look (not that he’ll fucking care). 

“Be a good boy, demon,” Michael says, throwing him a grin before heading out into the warm October air. 

 -------

 The first thing Michael’s going to do when He gets over Himself and reinstates Michael as an archangel is have a word with Him about ever giving Ashton Summoning powers. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Michael mutters, using his right wing to rub his head where he’d banged it on impact. 

“Are you serious?” Ashton says, hands on his hips. “You come straight into my office and blaspheme?” 

“Don’t fucking Summon me with no warning, then,” Michael says, shaking his wings out. Ashton throws him a glare, probably for cursing, possibly for having the gall to respond at all. 

“You’re an angel, Michael, you’ll come when you’re called,” he says reprovingly. Michael rolls his eyes, but throws himself down on the chair on the other side of Ashton’s desk heavily. 

“What?” he says, with a long-suffering sigh. 

“It’s Calum,” Ashton says. 

“Again?” Ashton throws him a look. 

“You could’ve killed him,” he says pointedly. Michael shrugs, a little uncomfortably. He knows he should have, but something about Calum just draws Michael in, makes it impossible for him to say no. 

“He was fucking with tattoos and unscrewing lug nuts, Ash,” he says, a little too defensive. “Not exactly crimes of the millennium.” Ashton scrutinises him for a moment, and then purses his lips. 

“Well,” he says primly, “apparently he’s turned up in LA.” Michael can’t help but smile at that, because yeah, LA sounds like exactly the kind of place a demon like Calum would show up. Ashton sees it, and frowns. “Michael, this is a case, you hear me? Calum’s still a demon, no matter how much you want to copulate with him.” Michael scowls. Fucking Ashton, always listening to his prayers. 

“No one says fucking copulate anymore,” he snipes, because he can’t exactly deny it. “You’d know if you ever got down off your high horse and visited Earth.” Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“I’m pretty busy up here,” he says, gesturing to all the paperwork piled high on his desk. 

“I’m telling you, station Pahaliah with Peter at the gates,” Michael says. “You’d cut all this in half.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Ashton says. “Pahaliah’s had his work cut out for him since the Enlightenment.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, Barachiel, then,” he suggests. “He’s a fucking pain in the arse. Might do him some good to do something mundane for a few centuries.” 

“I think He has bigger plans for His archangels than guarding the gates,” Ashton says. Michael raises an eyebrow, and Ashton rolls his eyes. “You’re not an archangel anymore, Michael.” 

“I am in all but name,” Michael says with a shrug, because He always relents where Michael’s concerned. “This is my, what, twelfth demotion? Thirteenth?” 

“This one might stick,” Ashton says warningly, which is what he says every time it happens. His concern is kind of cute, Michael thinks, if unwarranted. Ashton’s never understood Him like Michael does. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael says dismissively, because he’s not about to have this discussion with Ashton again. “Can I go now?” Ashton frowns at him, which Michael takes as a yes. He lifts himself up from the chair, stretching his wings and arms out, and turns to leave.  

“Do not copulate with the demon, Michael,” Ashton says. 

“I won’t,” Michael promises, heading for the door. “Might fuck him, though.” 

(The force with which Ashton slams him into the wall makes the whole building shake, but it’s absolutely worth it.) 

 -------

 LA is cold in November, which Michael had forgotten. It’s also busy, which means he can’t draw his wings around himself for extra warmth, nor simply teleport himself to the studio Calum’s apparently in. Instead, he has to huddle into himself and elbow his way through the Hollywood crowds, meaning he’s in a pretty bad mood by the time he actually gets to where he needs to be. 

Michael distracts the security guard momentarily with a quick wave of his hand, enough for him to slip inside unnoticed. It’s a small studio, only a handful of live rooms, and Michael only has to peek into two before he finds the one Calum’s in. 

Calum, clad in his usual all-black get-up, is leaning against the wall of the studio, grinning as he watches the sound engineer frowning, fiddling with a bunch of his controls. Michael can see the shimmer of the glamour he’s cast, and wordlessly casts one of his own as he clicks the door shut behind him. The sound engineer doesn’t even look up, so preoccupied with trying to fix whatever’s going wrong, but Calum hears the sound and whips around, scowling when he sees Michael. 

“Do you just, like, have a sixth sense for when there’s some fun occurring that could be stopped?” he asks, and Michael grins at him. 

“Just got a sixth sense for shitty demons,” he says, and Calum’s scowl deepens. 

“Fuck you,” he says. Michael raises an eyebrow, then casts a look over at the live room on the other side of the glass. There’s a band in there, two girls on guitar, one on bass and one on drums, all frowning at their instruments and fiddling with tuning pegs or tension rods. 

“You’re un-tuning their instruments?” he says. “That’s pretty bad, even for you.” Calum makes a noise of outrage. 

“What do you mean, even for me?” he says, sounding scandalised. “That tattoo was fucking hilarious, you said so yourself.” Michael’s eyes flick down to Calum’s bicep, even though it’s covered by his leather jacket. Calum notices, and folds his arms. “Yeah, fuck you for that. Do you have any idea the number of favours I had to call in to get rid of it?” Michael snorts. 

“Who the fuck owes you favours?” he asks, and Calum grins, eyes gleaming. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he says. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking,” Michael points out. Calum rolls his eyes, and turns back to the sound engineer, who looks like he’s ready to cry. 

“I asked around about you,” Calum comments casually, as they both watch the sound engineer fiddle with yet more knobs. 

“Oh?” Michael hums, interest piqued. “You know, the Devil and I had a good understanding.” 

“Yeah, until you waged a war against him,” Calum says. 

“On the Lord’s orders,” Michael says, a little defensively. 

“Well, he found it pretty funny that you got demoted,” Calum says. Michael rolls his eyes. Of course he did. 

“He would,” Michael says. “Did he tell you about the time the Lord made him wash the Son’s feet in front of the whole host?” Calum gapes at him. 

“No,” he says, sounding flabbergasted. Michael grins, feeling oddly satisfied.  

“Yeah, I bet he didn’t,” he says. “Didn’t realise he concerned himself with petty demons like you, anyway.” Calum scowls. 

“I’m not a petty demon,” he says, a shade petulantly. 

“You un-tune people’s guitars, dude,” Michael says. “Pretty sure demons are meant to be out committing homicide, and stuff.” 

“There are plenty of demons who do the whole murder thing,” Calum says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m striking out.” Michael can’t help but grin at that. 

“I’ll put that in your file,” he tells Calum. “‘Not Like Other Demons’. Got it.” 

“I’ve got a file?” 

“What, you think we just let demons run around unchecked?” Calum blinks at him.

“You know Galadriel’s in the US president’s cabinet right now?” he says slowly. 

“Of course we know,” Michael says.  

“And you’re leaving him be?” Michael shrugs. 

“Not my department,” he says. Calum stares at him for a moment, and then a grin breaks out on his face, and he shakes his head. 

“Man, things have definitely changed since I was up there,” he says. 

“When was that?” Michael asks. Calum shrugs. 

“I dunno, I’m not great with time,” he says. “One, two thousand years ago?” Michael hums thoughtfully. 

“You remember Raphael?” he says. Calum rolls his eyes, and now that, that is a sentiment Michael can really get behind. 

“Unfortunately,” he mutters. “He still so fucking holier-than-thou?” 

“You thought he was holier-than-thou then?” Michael says, raising his eyebrows. “You should see him since my latest demotion.” He pitches his voice up a few octaves, and mimics: “Oh, Michael, if you just repented, you could have your seat at His side again. We’re all rooting for you. You’re just letting yourself down.” Calum grins. 

“You get demoted often?” It’s Michael’s turn to shrug. 

“Every couple of centuries,” he says. Calum laughs, all straight white teeth and sparkling eyes, and Michael’s stomach flips. God, he’s far too fucking pretty for Michael to handle. Is that why He sent Michael after him? Is this His idea of revenge? 

“I have no idea how you’re still an angel,” Calum says, shaking his head, still smiling. 

“Pure heart,” Michael says solemnly. “That’s why I keep defending these poor, helpless humans from your shitty little tricks.” 

“They’re not shitty,” Calum protests, as Michael throws a glance over to the girls in the live room, tightening their tuning pegs and tension rods wordlessly. Calum sighs dramatically, eyes following Michael’s gaze. “Man, you’re so fucking boring, you know that?” 

“Whatever you say,” Michael says with a grin, stepping back. “Behave yourself, demon.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Calum says, eyes twinkling. Michael smirks, and drops Calum’s glamour with a snap of his fingers. The sound engineer whirls around immediately, eyes widening when he sees Calum in the corner of the room, and scrambles to his feet, grabbing a nearby guitar and brandishing it like a weapon. 

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy shouts. “How the fuck did you get in here?” Calum shoots Michael a glare. 

“I fucking hate you, angel,” is the last thing Michael hears before everything goes white. 

 -------

 The next time Ashton sends Michael after Calum, he finds him with another demon who looks decidedly undemonic, blonde hair framing baby-blue eyes. Calum’s head whips around when Michael clears his throat, eyes black, poised to pounce, but he relaxes when he sees who it is. Michael’s not sure what to make of that. The other demon, though, bares his teeth, eyes flashing to black, tensing at Michael’s presence.

“Evening,” Calum says casually as his eyes flicker back to looking human, like they’re friends, and like Michael doesn’t have the power to kill him with a snap of his fingers. 

“What are you doing?” Michael asks, cocking his head. There’s glue and there’s coins, and he doesn’t understand how the two of them combine. 

“Gluing coins to the footpath,” Calum says, stepping back to let Michael see. In the dim light of the streetlight a few metres away, Michael can see a few coins shining back at him. 

“Huh,” he says thoughtfully. “Who’s your friend?”

“Luke,” the other demon says, eyes narrowed and black, posture defensive. He’s oddly familiar, Michael thinks, a bitter taste rising in his throat when they lock eyes. Michael’s dealt with a lot of demons in his time, but he doesn’t remember any called Luke. “Who the fuck is this, Cal?” 

“This?” Calum says, far too nonchalantly, kicking at one of the coins to make sure it’s properly stuck. “Michael. You know, the archangel?” 

“C’mon, dude,” Michael protests. “That’s a sensitive topic.” Luke looks at him, and there’s an edge of a glint to his eyes that Michael doesn’t like the look of. 

“An archangel?” he asks Calum, eyes still on Michael. 

“Well, no,” Calum says cheerfully, dropping to his knees again and sending Michael a pointed look, eyes glittering with humour. “He got demoted. Just a regular angel now.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” he says. “Who are you, the Raphael of Hell?” Calum snorts, and Luke looks from Calum to Michael and back again. 

“Are you going to kill us?” he says. 

“That depends,” Michael says. “Are you going to piss me off enough to make me?” 

“Don’t worry about him,” Calum tells Luke, reaching for another coin and some glue. “He’s the worst angel they’ve got.” Michael sighs, an I didn’t want to have to do this but you’ve twisted my arm kind of sigh, and raises his hand. Calum jerks into the air, feet dangling beneath him, and his wings instinctively shoot out, beating wildly to try and escape Michael’s chokehold. They’re kind of gorgeous, actually - sleek, black feathers, a little unkempt. 

“Huh,” Michael says thoughtfully, as Calum struggles against his hold, wheezing and spluttering, and Luke stares at him, looking only mildly interested. “Nice wings, dude.” He lets Calum go, who drops to the ground with a loud crack, splitting the footpath on impact. Calum winces, rubbing at his throat, and folds his wings back in. 

“Thanks,” he says, coughing. “Always thought black suited me better.” Michael hums in agreement. He can’t really see the pure, brilliant white he has on his own back working with Calum’s aesthetic. 

“Hey, d’you have a halo?” Calum says to Michael, voice still a little hoarse. 

“‘Course,” Michael says. “Do you have horns?” Calum snorts, getting to his feet. 

“I can if you want me to,” he says, throwing Michael a wink. Luke stares at him. 

“Wait, are you two fucking?” he asks, a note of trepidation in his voice. Calum’s eyes flick to Michael, dark and hungry.

“Not yet,” he says, not taking his eyes off Michael. Michael swallows, and apologises to Ashton, who he just knows is listening, for the string of thoughts that just went through his mind. 

“I’m just doing my job,” Michael says to Luke, but he can’t tear his eyes away from Calum’s. 

“Isn’t your job to kill us?” 

“No,” Michael says. “Just to stop you. And, I’ve got to be honest, stopping Calum isn’t exactly hard. He’s kind of a shitty demon.” 

“Fuck you,” Calum says, scowling, and Michael grins. 

“If you’re lucky,” he says, winking at Calum before turning to Luke. “You don’t seem like a very intimidating demon either, dude, not gonna lie.” 

“Oh, you should see him when he’s pissed,” Calum says, and Luke huffs, looking a little embarrassed. “Remember that transport minister in Berlin that fell in front of a train a few months ago?” Michael gapes at him. 

“That was you?” he says, rounding on Luke. 

“Yep,” Calum says gleefully, on Luke’s behalf. 

“What, he stood on my foot on the underground and didn’t apologise,” Luke says defensively. Michael stares at him for a moment, and then shakes his head. 

“You’re a way better demon than Calum,” he says, and the cheerful grin slips off Calum’s face, replaced with an indignant scowl. 

“What the fuck, dude?” he demands. Michael shrugs.��

“Find yourself a better sidekick, Luke,” he recommends, taking a step back. 

“Go fuck yourself,” Calum says. Michael grins, flicking his wrist, and all the coins start rolling down the footpath towards the gutter. 

“What did I tell you about behaving?” he mock-chides, as Calum makes a noise of outrage, trying to stop a few of the coins with his feet. 

“Fuck you, angel,” Calum grumbles, and Michael blows him a kiss as he transports himself back home. 

 -------

 Michael’s in the middle of a debate with Peter about whether or not Julius Caesar should really have been let into Heaven when Ashton Summons him. 

“-just shouldn’t have crossed the Rubicon, if you ask me,” Michael finishes his sentence addressing the wall in Ashton’s office. He spins around, annoyed. “What the fuck, Ash? I was having a conversation.” Ashton holds up a picture of Luke and Calum that Michael had put in Calum’s file, tapping on Luke. 

“Who’s the friend?” he says. 

“Luke,” Michael says. “Can I go now?” 

“No,” Ashton says, motioning for Michael to sit. Michael sighs dramatically, but throws himself down into the chair. Ashton sits down opposite him, wings poised, and steeples his fingers against his chin. 

“You know Luke?” he asks carefully. Michael shrugs. 

“Met him once,” he says. “They were gluing coins to a footpath.” Ashton nods thoughtfully. “Oh, and he killed that transport minister in Berlin a few months ago.” 

“I think he’s killed a lot more than just the transport minister,” Ashton says, tapping on a thick, unmarked file on his right. Michael shrugs. 

“Humans have to die of something,” he says. Ashton gives him a look. 

“We’re meant to protect humanity,” he says reprovingly. 

“C’mon, Ash, they live about as long as it takes me to blink,” Michael says. Ashton purses his lips, but he knows Michael’s right. 

“I’m going after him,” he says eventually. Michael does a literal, honest-to-God double take. 

“You’re doing what?” he says, astounded. “You’re going down?” 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Ashton says, a little snappily. “Gabriel’ll take over for me when I’m gone.” Michael groans. 

“C’mon, Ash, can’t you pick, like, Uriel, or Selaphiel, or something?” he asks desperately, because he’d rather die than answer to Gabriel, but Ashton shakes his head firmly. 

“Gabriel’s the only one qualified,” he says, eyes back on the picture of Luke and Calum. 

“What’s so interesting about Luke?” Michael asks, seeing the way Ashton’s eyes linger on him. “Why can’t you send someone else after him?” Ashton hesitates, then looks at Michael with a serious expression. 

“There’s never been a demon called Luke.” 

 -------

 Michael next sees Calum in a shopping centre food court. 

Calum spots him before he manages to get to him, and beckons him over, grinning excitedly. Michael tries to suppress a grin and ignore the way his stomach flips at that, pushing through the crowd to get to the booth Calum’s sat in and sliding in opposite him. 

“Watch this,” Calum says gleefully, nodding at the woman to their right. She takes a bite of her margherita pizza, nodding at whatever her friend is saying, and then stops, frowning, hand flying to her throat. 

“What did you do?” Michael asks, as the woman starts to cough. 

“Made her allergic to salt,” Calum says nonchalantly, and Michael snorts. The woman looks like she’s starting to struggle to breathe, so Michael waves his hand, and she relaxes, coughing a few more times, looking extremely confused and concerned. 

“So you’ve progressed to actually killing people now?” Michael asks, mildly intrigued. Calum shakes his head. 

“Knew you’d turn up,” he says, flashing Michael a grin. Michael rolls his eyes. 

“You don’t know that,” he says. “I’m a busy angel.” Calum snorts. 

“Right, that’s why they’ve sent you after me,” he says sarcastically, dipping a chip in some ketchup and popping it in his mouth. “Sure.” Michael shrugs. 

“He wanted me to go after you,” he says. Calum stops chewing, and frowns. 

“He?” he says, swallowing. “As in, Him?” Michael nods. “What the fuck? I’m on G-” he winces. “I’m on His radar?” 

“Apparently so,” Michael says, reaching for one of Calum’s chips and looking around for the mayonnaise. “Hey, where’s the mayo?” Calum stares at him. 

“You eat mayo, and I’m the demon?” he says in disbelief. Michael scowls at him, and conjures some mayonnaise. 

“It’s the best condiment,” he tells Calum, through a mouthful of chip. Calum shakes his head at him, looking genuinely disappointed. 

“What does He want with me, then?” he asks. Michael shrugs. 

“Do I look like God?” he says. Calum shrugs. 

“Never met Him,” he says. Michael raises his eyebrows. 

“Well, who kicked you out?” he asks. 

“Raphael.” 

“Bet he enjoyed that.” Calum huffs out a laugh, sticking his finger in the ketchup and then in his mouth. Michael’s not sure whether he should be grossed out by the fact Calum’s eating pure ketchup, or turned on by the way Calum’s got his lips wrapped around his fingers, looking up at Michael through thick, black lashes. 

“You’re disgusting,” he settles for, but it comes out weak, and a grin’s flashing across Calum’s face in a second. 

“Only for you,” he says, with a wink. Michael rolls his eyes, and hopes the pink on his cheeks isn’t too obvious. He reaches for another one of Calum’s chips, and Calum’s eyes follow him. He looks like he’s weighing up whether or not he wants to say something. 

“What’s He like?” he asks eventually, curiously. 

“God?” Michael asks, and Calum nods. Michael swallows his mouthful of chips, and clears his throat. “He’s cool. Pretty laid-back guy. It’s the Son you want to watch out for.” Calum cocks an eyebrow in intrigue, and Michael nods. “Yeah, the Son’s got a proper stick up his ass. Never met anyone so uptight in my life.” 

“Might be a side effect of crucifixion,” Calum suggests, and Michael snorts. 

“Well, you know, there’s the whole Trinity thing,” Michael continues, “so He’s pretty strict when it comes to the Son. God, the Son’s so spoilt. You think Raphael’s bad, wait until you meet Jesus.” Calum snorts. 

“Don’t think I’ll be meeting the Son anytime soon,” he says, and there’s something hard in his eyes and bitter in his tone. Michael frowns, but it’s gone as soon as Michael opens his mouth to ask. 

“What about Hell?” he asks instead. 

“What about it?” 

“Well, what’s Satan up to nowadays?” A look of amusement flashes across Calum’s face. 

“Oh, y’know,” he says. “Same old.” 

“Being the proudest motherfucker around?” Calum laughs, eyes twinkling, and Michael has the feeling he’s said something much funnier than he intended to. 

“You could say that,” Calum says. 

“He still funny?” Michael asks. “Heaven’s way more boring without him. He was the only one with a fucking sense of humour.” Calum’s eyes glitter with mirth. 

“I’d say so,” he says, grinning. 

“Well,” Michael says, a little awkwardly, because Calum’s finding this way funnier than it should be. “Give him my best.” Calum bursts out laughing. 

“Will do, angel,” he says. 

 -------

 God is nothing like humans think. 

Okay, He’s a little like humans think - He’s got the beard - but that’s about it. 

“Hey, Mikey,” God says, grinning at him when he knocks at the door. “How’s my favourite angel?” Michael rolls his eyes, shutting the door behind him. 

“You’re not supposed to have favourites,” he tells God. 

“I don’t,” God says, eyes twinkling. “But Raphael was listening.” Michael snorts, shaking his head, and God gestures at the seat opposite His desk, capping His pen as Michael sits down. 

“You reinstating me as archangel?” Michael asks cheerfully. God sighs, giving him a serious look, and the smile slips off Michael’s face. 

“You know, Jesus is still mad about the onion,” He says gravely. “You made Him look bad, which means you made me look bad.” 

“You know I didn’t mean to do that,” Michael says, because He can see Michael’s intentions laid out in front of him, clear as day. “And you know I’m sorry.” 

“I know,” God says. “So I am reinstating you. But don’t play around with the Son again.” Michael nods meekly, wings sagging a little. 

“Thank you, Father,” he says. God waves His hand dismissively, grinning. 

“You knew I was going to reinstate you,” He says. 

“Ashton’s going to be pissed,” Michael says, and God chuckles. 

“He knew too,” He says. “He thinks you get special treatment.” That fucker. And, yeah, whoops, Michael’s in the presence of the Lord, and isn’t censoring his thoughts. Whoops. Sorry. “Apology accepted,” He says, grinning. 

Michael hesitates, then, because it reminds him of some things Calum’s said - you exercise your free will to swear, and the many different iterations of you’re the worst angel up there. God raises an eyebrow, motioning for Michael to ask. 

“Why don’t you kick me out?” Michael blurts. God leans back in His seat. 

“You want me to kick you out?” He asks. Michael shakes his head. 

“But I- y’know,” Michael says, shrugging a little uncomfortably in the heat of His gaze. There’s nothing quite like the scrutiny of the Lord. “I swear. I blaspheme. I- uh.” He flushes, and God smirks as images of just what exactly Michael would like to do to Calum flash through his mind. Michael clears his throat. “I’m not exactly a model angel.” God looks at him, calculating, and Michael tries to resist the urge to fall to his knees. 

“You use your free will exactly as I intended it to be used,” He says. “You do as you please with a pure heart, unwaveringly loyal to me. You never have your own interests above mine.” 

“Even when I blaspheme?” God looks at him for a moment, and then smiles. 

“Even when you blaspheme,” He says gently. “You’d do well to remember my omniscience, Michael. Raphael may think obsequiousness is the way into my good books, but that was the reason I gave you free will. I knew some would use it for wrong, I knew some of you would use it to serve me blindly, but you’re the only one who’s ever used their free will as I intended, and the only one I’d ever want at my right-hand side.” Michael has to drop his gaze, can’t meet the holy power shining from His eyes. 

“Thank you, Father,” he says again, and he hears the awe in his own voice. Jesus Christ, he sounds like a human. God snorts at that. 

“Yeah, you do,” He says. “Now, go and tell Raphael you’ve been reinstated. I’ve seen how it plays out, and you’re going to love it.” 

“Can I tell him I’m your right-hand angel?” Michael says hopefully, and God laughs. 

“The fuck you can,” He says, eyes twinkling, and laughs again as Michael gawps at Him. “Oh, you think you’re the only one who can swear in here?” 

Yeah, Michael should have seen that one coming. 

 -------

 The next time Michael sees Calum, he’s with Luke again. It’s the middle of the night, and they’ve both cast glamours, whispering to each other in a dormitory in a hostel in Prague. Luke’s pointing at something across the room, and Michael silently casts his own glamour, sauntering over to them nonchalantly in the hopes of picking up what they’re talking about. 

“...the right side of the room, you take the left,” Luke says, gesturing to the other side of the room. 

“For what?” Michael asks, and both Calum and Luke jump, eyes instinctively turning black and baring their teeth. They both relax when they see who it is, though. 

“Can you let us have one night of fun?” Calum says, sighing. 

“Depends,” Michael says. “Does ‘fun’ involve fucking with the humans?” He indicates the ten people sleeping soundly in the room, and both Luke and Calum hesitate. 

“Well, yes, but-” Luke begins.

“No can do,” Michael says smoothly, and Calum scowls at him. 

“You ever get tired of being a boring cunt?” he asks, and Michael can’t help but laugh. 

“What are you up to?” he asks. 

“Unplugging people’s phone chargers,” Luke answers, eyes gleaming. “They’re all going to wake up with thirty percent charge. Some of them might even miss their alarms.” He sounds so fucking pleased with himself. Michael rolls his eyes. 

“What are you, three hundred?” he says, and he opens his mouth to make another  scathing remark, but is interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He whips around in surprise, because who the fuck can see through his glamour, to find Ashton standing there, looking equally surprised to see him. 

“Oh,” Michael says, turning back to Calum, who looks bewildered, and Luke, who looks shocked. “This is my superior. Although, actually, that’s not true anymore, is it?” 

“You get demoted too?” Calum asks Ashton sympathetically. Ashton sends Michael a glare, and shakes his head tightly. Calum looks back at Michael, who’s grinning widely. 

“No way,” he says incredulously. “You got reinstated?”

“He always gets reinstated,” Ashton mutters. 

“Jealousy’s not a good look you, Ash,” Michael tells him sweetly, and Ashton scowls at him. 

“Ashton,” Luke says suddenly. Ashton’s eyes slide over to him, something unreadable in his expression. 

“Yes,” he says, a little tightly. Michael frowns. What the fuck is Ashton’s deal with Luke? He’s just a harmless fucking demon. He’s about to start unplugging people’s phones, for God’s sake. Not exactly the kind of criminal mastermind Ashton usually descends for; the last time Ashton had come down had been for Attila the Hun. 

“Huh,” Luke says, a little smile unfolding on his lips. “You’re still fucking hot.” Michael’s eyes widen, and Calum chokes on his next breath, disguising it badly as a cough. 

“You know him?” Michael asks in disbelief. Luke grins, eyes glittering, and waves his hand. Michael watches as all the phone chargers in the room simultaneously unplug themselves and fall to the floor, and his jaw drops. No demon should be able to do that. Calum wouldn’t even be able to unplug two chargers at the same time. 

“Cal didn’t tell you?” Luke says sweetly. “Luke’s short for Lucifer.” 

 -------

 For want of a better phrase, all hell had broken loose as soon as the words had left Luke’s lips. 

Ashton and Michael’s wings had flown out, in warrior mode without a second’s hesitation, and Calum and Luke had responded in kind, growling, eyes black, teeth bared. 

“I knew it,” Ashton had hissed, holy light rolling off him so brightly it even almost hurt Michael’s eyes. Calum had shrunk back, but Luke had been unperturbed. “The minute I saw that picture, I knew it was you.” Luke had grinned, all sharp teeth and gleaming black eyes. 

“You think about me that often?” he’d said. 

“Of course I fucking think about you,” Ashton had spat, and Michael had stopped short, stared at him. 

“Did you just fucking swear?” he’d asked. 

“Not really the point, Michael,” Ashton had said through gritted teeth.

“Man, you’re not the only angel to swear?” Calum had said to Michael. 

“He never swears,” Michael had told him, bewildered. 

“These are special fucking circumstances,” Ashton had snapped, and the power in his voice had made Calum stumble back a few steps. 

“Look,” he’d said carefully, when he’d regained his footing. “Michael’s an archangel, you’re...whatever the fuck you are, and Luke’s the Devil. All I’m seeing here is I’m going to come out bottom if this comes down to a fight. Why don’t we take this somewhere else?” They’d all hesitated, tense and poised, none of them willing to be the first to give in, until Calum’s gaze had flickered to Michael, a pleading note in his brown eyes. 

And really, who’s Michael, archangel of the Lord, to say no to petty demon Calum? 

“Fine,” Michael had said, folding his wings, and after a moment’s hesitation, Ashton had followed suit. Luke had taken a moment longer, until Calum had nudged him pointedly, and then he’d folded his sleek black wings in too. 

That’s how they’ve ended up here, in a McDonald’s that’s open all night. They’re huddled in a booth, too close for comfort, Calum and Luke on one side, Michael and Ashton on another. 

“So,” Michael says awkwardly, cutting into the uncomfortable silence, because someone has to be the first to speak. “Sorry about, y’know. The war, and all that.” Luke snorts. 

“Water under the bridge,” he says, waving a hand dismissively, but his eyes don’t stray from Ashton. “You were always my favourite angel.” Ashton flinches at that. 

“What’s the fucking deal here?” Calum demands, and Michael’s silently grateful that he’s not the one who had to ask the question and risk getting publicly reamed out by Ashton. “How do you two know each other?” Luke grins, still gazing at Ashton. 

“You wanna tell them, or should I?” he says, and Ashton stiffens. “I guess I should, huh? It is my story, after all.” 

“Fucking spit it out already, Luke,” Calum says. Luke raises his eyebrows at Ashton, and then finally tears his gaze away. 

“Ashton’s the reason I fell,” Luke says. Michael feels his jaw drop.

“What?” he says, at the exact same time as Calum. 

“How?” Michael demands. 

“What the fuck?” Calum says. 

“What happened?” 

“What did he do?” 

“Hang on, I thought you fell because of pride,” Michael interrupts, jabbing a finger at Luke. Luke shakes his head. 

“I fell because I loved someone more than I loved Him,” he says, and then nods at Ashton. Michael blinks. 

“Sorry,” he says after a moment, shaking his head. “Not sure I’m getting this.” 

“Yeah,” Calum chimes in. “Sounds like you’re saying you and Ashton were, like...a thing?” 

“That’s what he’s saying,” Ashton says. 

“You- hang on,” Michael says, holding his hands up. “You, Ashton, angel who tells me off for even thinking about blaspheming, dated the Devil?” Ashton nods curtly. 

“Nah,” Calum says, shaking his head, “sorry, not having it.” Michael has to agree with that. No way did Ashton date Satan. 

“Wait,” he says suddenly. “No, this doesn’t make any sense. Why do you look different?” Luke shrugs. 

“Changed it up,” he says. “You get a much more exciting range of powers when you’re not confined by His morals.” He grins, and looks back at Ashton. “Ashton still recognised me, though, didn’t he?” Michael stares at Ashton. 

“You dated Satan?” he asks, and Ashton nods. “You never thought to fucking tell me?” 

“What was I supposed to say, Mike?” Ashton says. 

“Oh, I don’t know, hey, Michael, sorry about all those times I slammed you against a wall for swearing, turns out I dated the fucking Devil?” Michael suggests, slightly hysterical. None of this makes any fucking sense. 

“You slam him against walls?” Calum asks, sounding intrigued. “Huh. Shame. I won’t get to be the first.” Michael scowls at him. 

“Are you serious?” he demands. “I find out Ashton dated the literal Devil, and you want to make innuendos? What are you, an incubus?” Calum grins at him. 

“Might be,” he says. 

“Could make you one, if you wanted to be,” Luke offers. 

“If you’re Satan, why the fuck are you messing around with people’s phone chargers and gluing coins to footpaths?” Michael says. Luke shrugs. 

“Being annoying is way more fun than being evil,” he says. Michael stares at him, because yeah, that does actually sound like something Lucifer would say. But Lucifer also didn’t fucking date Ashton. 

“You two didn’t date,” Michael says, shaking his head. “That’s just- that’s just not true.” 

“I can’t lie, Michael,” Ashton reminds him, and Michael bites his lip, because it’s true, he can’t, but he also didn’t fucking date the Devil.

“So,” Luke continues, like this whole interlude hadn’t even happened, spreading his hands. “Turns out I loved Ashton more than he loved me. I get cast out, he doesn’t follow, cue thousands of years of warfare.” And actually, that’s a point. 

“You let me fight that war,” Michael says tightly, rounding on Ashton. “You let me lead that. You let me lead angels, your brothers, into battle to die, and you could have stopped it all along.” Ashton puts his head in his hands. 

“I couldn’t,” he says miserably. “I couldn’t force myself to love Lucifer more than I love Him.”

“Man, this is like a fucking soap opera,” Calum puts in, leaning back in the booth with a grin on his face. 

“I’m glad someone’s fucking enjoying themselves,” Michael snaps, and Calum holds his hands up in defence. 

“I’m a demon, dude,” he says. “I kind of get off on chaos.” He pauses, and then adds: “So do you, actually, don’t fucking lie. You said the tattoo was funny.” 

“That’s exactly why I’m so worried about you, Michael,” Ashton says. “You abuse your free will. I don’t want you to fall, too.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Ash, if I were going to fall, it’d would’ve happened a long fucking time ago,” he says. Ashton shoots him a look. 

“You’ve never been as close as you are now,” he says bluntly, eyes flicking to Calum. 

“Oh, c’mon, I want to fuck a demon, so what?” Michael says. “You actually fucked the Devil, and you’re still up there.” 

“You want to fuck me?” Calum interrupts, and Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Dude, of course I want to fuck you,” he says. Calum looks at him for a moment, and then his face splits into a self-satisfied grin. 

“Don’t blame you,” he says. “I am pretty fucking sexy.” 

“Not the moment, Calum,” Michael says warningly, and it’s Calum’s turn to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t retort. 

“He’s not going to fall, Ash,” Luke says, and there’s something gentle and reassuring in his tone that doesn’t really sit well with Michael’s idea of Satan. “Trust me. He’ll never love anyone more than he loves Him.” Calum’s grin drops at that, and Michael tries to ignore the unpleasant flip in his stomach. 

“You don’t know that,” Ashton says. “You haven’t seen how he uses his free will.” Michael hesitates. 

“I spoke to God about it,” he says, after a moment of dithering. “I- look, I can’t tell you what He said, but we’re on the same page.” Ashton throws him a sceptical look. “Come on, Ash, am I going to lie to you about what He said in front of Him?” Ashton hesitates, and then deflates.

“No,” he says reluctantly. “But-” 

“No, I’m not taking any more fucking criticism from you,” Michael interrupts, pointing a finger at him, “ever. You dated the Devil. I’m going to swear to fucking God-” he relishes the way Ashton flinches at that “-and I’m going to fuck Calum, and there’s absolutely fucking nothing you’re going to say about it.” Ashton opens his mouth, and then closes it again, and Michael gets a rush of satisfaction almost as strong as when he’d told Raphael he’d been reinstated as archangel, again. 

“Fine,” Ashton mutters. Luke shoots him a look somewhere between concern and amusement, and Michael tries not to think about the fact that Satan seems to at least somewhat care about Ashton, instead lapsing into an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until Calum clears his throat. 

“So, Michael,” he says hopefully, breaking the tension. “We were gonna fuck?” 

 -------

 Just because Michael and Calum are fucking now doesn’t relieve Michael from his duties, as God kindly but firmly reminds him when he goes to ask about whether this is, like, even permitted. 

(“You know where I stand,” God had said. “Love no one more than me.”

“For you are a jealous God,” Michael had muttered, and God had grinned. 

“Exactly.”) 

He’s begged Calum to stop fucking around, but Calum seems to think it’s even funnier now that they’re whatever the fuck they are, uses it as a fucking booty call. His ideas are getting more and more ludicrous - he’d gone to someone’s house and put tiny holes in all of their socks, for God’s sake - just to call Michael down for a quick fuck. 

So when Michael hears that Calum’s caused a ten-car pileup on a motorway in England, he’s a little concerned. 

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Calum says, aiming for light-hearted and missing, not even looking up when Michael sits down next to him on the overbridge. 

“That’s all in your hands,” Michael says, looking out at the (pretty impressive) traffic jam Calum’s caused. “Damn, dude. Bad day?” Calum huffs out a laugh, but it’s humourless. 

“Yeah, guess so,” he says moodily. Michael hesitates. On the one hand, Calum’s a demon, and even though they’re physically intimate, Michael’s not supposed to emotionally care about him. On the other hand, Michael’s an angel, so caring is kind of in his nature, and something about Calum just draws Michael in. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he says eventually, gently. Calum shrugs. 

“Nothing you can do about it,” he says. 

“I can listen,” Michael says. “Angel, remember? I do a lot of listening.” Calum snorts. 

“What are you angel of?��� he asks. 

“Healing,” Michael says. 

“You heal broken hearts?” And, oh. Okay. Michael swallows. He shouldn’t care about that as much as he does. It shouldn’t matter to him that someone that isn’t Michael has broken Calum’s heart. 

“I can try,” he says, aiming for jovial, but it falls flat. Calum sighs. 

“Remember that dude who wrote that play about the people who couldn’t be together?” he says, kicking his legs out. Michael frowns. “You know, the one set in Italy? Couple of centuries ago?” Michael frowns, and Calum rolls his eyes. “C’mon, man, you know who I’m talking about. Ro- Roleo? No, wait, Romeo? Romeo and Juliet, that’s the one.” 

“...Shakespeare?” Michael says. 

“Yeah, him,” Calum says in relief. 

“What about him?” 

“Didn’t he write the whole star-crossed lovers thing?” Michael raises his eyebrows. 

“You remember that, but not Shakespeare’s name?” he says. Calum scowls, but it’s half-hearted. 

“My point is,” he says, and then he stops, and kicks his feet out again. 

“Your point is?” Michael prompts. Calum sighs, and stares down at the cars. 

“You ever feel like that?” he says gloomily. Michael follows his gaze. 

“Like a traffic jam?” he asks slowly. Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Like we’re star-crossed lovers,” he says, and oh. 

Oh. 

Oh, fucking hell. 

“Calum,” Michael says carefully, and Calum sighs again. 

“I know,” he says, before Michael can continue. “You don’t fucking care about me, whatever. It just fucking sucks.” He laughs humourlessly, and then adds: “You think He’d ever let me back in?” Michael dithers on that for a moment, before deciding to go for the truth. 

“I don’t think so, Cal,” he says gently. “You wouldn’t be able to love Him more than anyone else.” 

“Is that such a fucking crime?” Calum says bitterly. “That I have the capacity to love with thought, with intention, not just blindly?” 

“No,” Michael says kindly. “It just means you’d make a shitty angel.” 

“You’re a shitty angel,” Calum says. 

“I am,” Michael agrees. “But I’ll also never love anyone more than Him.” Calum deflates, and shit, are those tears? Can demons even cry? 

“What the fuck are we even doing then, Michael?” Calum asks flatly. Michael sighs. 

“I do care about you, Cal,” he says. “A lot. I should have killed you the first time I met you, but I couldn’t. There’s something about you, I just…” he trails off. “Look, it’s complicated. I do care about you. I’ll just never love you more than I love the Lord.” Calum stares at the traffic below them. 

“But you could love me?” he says to the cars. Michael nods. 

“Easily,” he says. Calum bites his lip. 

“I could be second best?” 

“You already are second best.” Calum’s brow creases, like he’s trying to make some kind of decision.

“Okay,” he says eventually. Michael frowns. 

“Okay?” Calum shrugs, and the wicked gleam is back in his eyes, just like that.  

“You know what they say,” he says, grinning. “First the worst, second the best.” Michael rolls his eyes, hard. 

“You really gonna have a breakdown and end it like that?” he says sceptically. 

“Demon, dude,” Calum reminds him. “Not really keen on serious.” 

“You sure you’re not, like, a poltergeist?” Michael says, and Calum shoves him off the overbridge. Michael squawks, wings unfolding so fast he thinks he might have sprained something, and he hits Calum upside the head with his left wing as he sets himself back down next to him. “You’re a fucking arsehole, you know that?” 

“And proud,” Calum tells him, and then sobers again. 

“What?” Michael prods. Calum sighs, and holds his hand out, fingers spread, for Michael to hold.  

“I don’t want you to fall for my sake,” he says. 

But, as Michael laces his fingers through Calum’s and stares at the cars under their feet, he thinks: would that be such a bad thing? 

[sweet-general-mayhem]

Tried to figure out how this would work out, and ended up writing a mini-chapter to make it happen, I think this would take place somewhere after chapter 8 but before chapter 11, might end up throwing it in the fic if I end up finding space for it. Story was written on desktop so I don't think to formatting/colors/readmore work on mobile and I apologize in advance for that.

2,000 worded story that kind of takes place in the Alternate fic implied RexCop (and ConstructionCop I guess, cause like Rex is Emmet)

Emmet wakes up on the couch, which he has become pretty accustomed to since Rex moved in. But at least this time he is plesently surprised to find Rex had managed to grab a blanket before passing out on the bottom of the double decker couch.

He gently takes off the blanket and folds it into a nice little square, smiling as he notices that Rex had actually taken the little teddy bear Lucy had won for Emmet a couple of days ago to bed with him. He places the bear on top of the blanket and starts to get read for the day.

Hey Rex are you awake yet?

Emmet hears some sort of mumble from Rex and sighs, as he starts choosing an outfit for the day.

Rex you gotta wake up, you have an early shift today at the precinct.

No you have an early shift today at the precinct.

No I- Rex you sound less blue than usual, wait am I allowed to say that. Is that breaking the Frank Grimes rule. Have we takes about the Frank Grimes rule yet, I feel like that was brought up in chapter 9.

But Rex is already back to sleep, leaving Emmet's mind alone to wander as he contemplates the current timeline of this fic.

As his mind wanders off that topic, he begins to think about what exactly happened last night. Rex got back late from some important police mission, invited the cops over and showed off his cool bar tending skills by making cool drinks for them. And then Rex convinced Emmet to try a drink, it was just a bunch of fruit juices thrown together with a shot of vodka, but it tasted pretty good. But Emmet, much like Rex, was a super late get weight, and got tipsy off of one shot and started rambling on about obscure Mario speedrun facts. He’s pretty sure he made Rex super embarrassed, so that was fun. Emmets figures he fell asleep not to long after that, missing out on whatever Rex and the Cops talked about, but they just have stayed up pretty late since it felt like Rex was only now falling asleep.

Emmet sighed as he pulled on the police uniform, I guess I can show up to work for him, I’ll just do it until he bothers to wake up. I mean we kind of both passed the physical together, and technically the letter of recommendation was written for me not him, so I work there as much as he does.

Emmet looks down at the name tag on his uniform, labeled Rex, and runs his hand over it. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to go out and be Rex for a few hours, but he knows Rex is already kind of on thin ice with Bad Cop since Rex does really like to break laws, and since Rex was almost as bad at making a move as he was (it only took Emmet five years to get a girlfriend) he didn’t want Rex to lose his chance at getting potential boyfriend.

Emmet puts the name tag back down, thinking about how happy Rex was to get that lil name tag, how Rex really appreciated having something to call his own, even it was small like that. If this encounter is taking place before chapter 10 Emmet is also thinking about he hopes no one notices that he’s wearing a name tag that says Rex on it. .

Emmet is at the precinct in no time, covering his face as he walks in and towards Bad Cop’s office. Since Rex works directly under Bad Cop. For various reasons.

Emmet let’s out a sigh of relief as he sees the Cops aren’t here yet, and goes to the back of the room to start a pot of coffee.

Emmet has three cups poured out, and almost spills all of them as he gets startled by the door opening behind him.

Emmet had lot out a noise that sort of sounded like squeak after being startled, and he was happy that Rex was still to asleep to berate him for letting out that noise.

Emmet hopes the Cops would ignore the squeak and turns around, smiling to see Scribble Cop.

“Good morning, you guys are here a little late.”

“Well you know traffic this time of day.”

“Oh yeah, I always try to get to the shuttle at least an hour or two early.”

“Is Dangervest not-”

“Oh he’s-” wait shiz can I say he’s asleep on the job that will look bad, I can’t make him look bad, well he makes me look bad in front of Lucy. But I’m supposed to be better than him, that sounds bad, I’m supposed to be nicer than him, that still sounds bad but not as bad, oh hey I need to say something, what’s a good lie, “Rex is wanting me to help me around the office today, he felt bad that I did a lot of the work for the physical and then he got all the credit.”

Emmet thinks Scribble Cop is giving him a skeptical look over him saying he did a lot of the work for the physical, so he chimes in, “like thar super cool punch that broke the giant robot apart that was me, and I did the really cool jump up the rock wall.”

“I didn’t realize you were that athletic.”

“I took weight lifting in highschool, and sort of kept up with it after I got out,” and then, to prove his point, he goes over and lifts Scribble Cop up like he’s a bag of flour, “see I'm pretty strong.”

Emmet looks down at Scribble to see him blushing pretty hard, and Emmet realizes that maybe picking people up bridal style isn’t something that’s normally done. Well he does it with his friends, but his friends aren’t like good for basing societal guidelines on.

Shortly after Emmet had picked up Scribble, Bad Cop switches and demands to be out down, and Emmet quickly complies, gently placing him on the grounf.

“Sorry if I crossed any boundaries there, Officer Boss Sir.” Emmet wasn’t particularly good at remembering people’s titles, so he just says all possible titles at once hoping one is right.

“Its no problem,” Emmet wonders if Bad Cop is blushing, he’s pretty good at keeping a straight face, so it’s hard to tell. But Emmet does notice he sounds a little tired, “but we got work to get to Brickowski,” Bad Cop walks over and pushes some reports to Emmet.

Emmet squints at the papers for a moment, before finally conceding, “the print is to small for me to read these,” (see previous unpublished chapter where Rex & Emmet failed their eye exam because as a kid they would be dared to see how long they could stare at the sun, and caused permanent eye damage).

Scribble Cop switches back after Emmet says this, being reminded of something, “oh that’s right, we picked you two up a little something,” and Scribble takes out some cool 80’s shades that has a metal frame and an orange tint to the glass, “they should be your prescription.”

Emmet timidly puts them on, and is now shocked at how clear things were, “these are awesome, oh man Rex is gonna love this when he-” wait don’t say he’s asleep dumb head, “gets to wear them later.” Wow I’m a really good at avoiding the truth, Rex would be so impressed if he wasn’t sleeping in right now.

Scribble smiles after Emmet says this, and Emmet turns his attention back to the know readable reports, something about a kid trying to commit arson, Emmet feels that is strangely familiar but can’t place his claw hand on exactly why.

“So what do we need to Officer Boss Sir, punch this adolescent into obediance?” Emmet still isn’t quite sure what a police man’s job is, but Rex seemed keen on implying there would be a lot of punching involved in the job, and Emmet still having not learned his lesson from the King Kong incident (self explanatory), is still blindly trusted him.

“Oh heavens no, we just need to sit down with them, tell them the dangers of fire, and contact their parents."

”Okay so the report suggests the kid is going to be hitting up the chain super convenient store that I go to regularly with Rex at 1AM, we should be able to get there in like ten minutes.“

”Why do you go there regularly?“

"Oh me and Rex get bored late at night a lot and just goof around there, you know punt the baby dolls over the aisles, try to figure out what figures are in various blind bags, petty theffffff felt, we buy putty and the felt, that’s what I was going to say, we buy putty and felt to make some of those asmr videos,” Emmet let’s out a nervous laugh, relieved to see Scribble Cop was totally believing that statement and not realizing Rex commits petty theft to fight against the corporate megabrand and their harmful anti-union tactics, “well we should get out to the city if we want to apprehend this kid,” and Emmet starts walking to the door, and looks back to see Bad Cop writing down some things in the ‘Probable Crimes that Rex Dangervest has Comitted’ document, and let’s out a groan, knowing Rex was gonna be pissed Bad was now onto their petty theft at local Walm*rts.

Emmet and Bad Cop make it to the Super Chain Convenient Store in 16 minutes, it would’ve been a 10 minute drive but they stopped get breakfast first.

Everyone gets out of the car and heads to the front of the store. Emmet is fiddling with his sunglasses, as he eats his power burrito he had gotten. It doesn’t taste particularly good, but he knows it’s important to Rex to keep their body in shape and he’s trying to respect that. But he looks over to the chocolate drizzled croissant Scribbs is eating, and starts really regretting his decision to get the sad excuse of a burrito. He suddenly gets the great idea to do something Rex would later yell at him for. He turns to Scribble and asks, “mind if I grab a bite of that?”

“Oh sure buddy,” Scribble Cop starts to move his hand to break off a piece of the breakfast item for Emmet, but Emmet being Emmet had already leaned over, less than an inch from Scribble Cop’s face, and takes a bite, and then leans back, enjoying the delightful taste sensation, completely unaware of that the officer next to him was frozen in some sort of shock.

Eventually Bad Cop gets tired of this and switches in, pushing the rest of the croissant over to Emmet, Emmet asks why, and Bad Cop mumbles something about losing his appetite. Emmet doesn’t question that at all happily finishes the rest of it, and has a really cute little smile as he cheerfully follows Bad Cop into the store.

“The kid should already be in the store-” Bad Cop stops talking when a voice over by the registers is heard.

“Yeah Im going to go use this stuff to commit arson!” The voice is a little to happy about this, and sure does sound familiar to Emmet- he squints over and low and behold it’s Unikitty, with a some lighter fluid and and a whole lot of matches

“We got the perp,” Bad Cop starts to head to register and Emmet does a little jog behind him.

“Wait I thought you said it was a kid?”

“That’s what people have been reporting.”

“Bruh, Unikitty is an adult, I think, when I lived with her she paid taxes and stuff.”

“If she is an adult will need to change our approach here, ending with her arrest-”

“Oh haha I’m just joshing with you, that’s what the kids say right, joshing? But uh, Unikitty is totally a kid, she has to be, she lives with her dad right now and like does kid things.”

“You know her father?”

“Well I think he might be like an adoptive father, but yeah I met him, kind of boring by the rules sort of guy. He’s also just like a floating brick. I don’t know how that works, have you ever been the Unikingdom, all the people there are kind of… Weird.”

Bad Cop nods in agreement at that statement, and they move on from that topic eventually making it to Unikitty and the concerned sale clerk, who upon seeing the officers quickly books it to the nearest door.

Bad Cop doesn’t really pay attention to that, and just let’s out a loud cough causing Unikitty to turn around, suddenly go into her aggressive form upon seeing Bad Cop. But then she turns and see’s Emmet and instantly calms down.

“Emmet you’re a cop now, does Lucy know you’re promoting the status quo of our biased and unfair society?”

“Yeah she knows and she’s kind of pissed at me for it, but we aren’t here to talk about my rocky relationship right now, we’re here cause there’s been reports of you trying to commit arson around the city.”

“Oh yeah, Rex told me commit arson.”

“…What.”

“Oh, uh Rex is this nice guy I met before at the Game Center, and we hung out for a little bit and we were just talking and he said, 'trans people can do anything,’ I was like 'I wanna do arson!’ and he was like, 'trans people can and should commit arson,’ and to prove his point we went around town trying to commit arson, but like we couldn’t find any place that would help us commit arson that night, so we didn’t end up doing anything, but I was bored today so I was gonna go burn some things!”

Emmet sees Bad Cop pull out his, 'Probable Crimes Rex Dangervest has Committed,’ and groans, but turns his focus back to Unikitty.

“Unikitty, that’s bad, fire can hurt people.”

“But I’m on fire like all pthe time, it doesn’t hurt me!”

“You’re a magical creature Unikitty, most of us aren’t as unique as you, and when we catch fire it hurts a lot, please don’t set things on fire.”

“Bluhhh.”

“Also we’re gonna have to call Richard about this.”

“No what, he’s gonna be all upset that I’m in trouble with the police again.”

“You were trying to break the law, you’re lucky to be getting off this easy.”

“Well is Rex gonna get in trouble for this.”

“Ohhhh he is, as soon as he wakes up I’m going to-”

Emmet winces after he says this, looking back as Bad Cop, who he thinks is smirking at him.

“Ah, so Dangervest has been sleeping on the job.”

“No, I mean yes, sorry Officer Boss Sir, I don’t think he fell asleep until I woke up this morning-” Emmet realizes he’s talking with Unikitty right in front of him. Unikitty, who doesn’t know about the whole situation yet, “have I mentioned that Rex is my roommate.”

“Oh my gosh you guys are roommates! Are you dating?”

“What no he’s like my brother maybe, also he wants to date the Cops over there anyways,” Emmet panics after saying this and switches topics, “hey this is about you and not listening to Rex, he’s a bad influence on people-”

Oh so you think I’m a bad influence?

Oh so you’re awake? Why were you letting Unikitty commit crimes?

Cause screw the police.

Hey that’s what you’re trying to do here, not me.

Oh by the way thanks for saying I have a crush on them, like right in front of their face.

Dude I’m pretty sure they already know, neither of us have been subtle.

What do you mean us-

Emmet snaps back into reality to see Bad Cop had taken Unikitty to the side as was calling up her father figure.

He felt a little relieved, at least no one was in serious trouble at the moment.

Oh hey Scribbs let me eat his croissant this morning that was really nice.

He did?

Yeah he offered it to me, and I just leaned in right next to him, like really close I might have brushed against his face, and took a bite, and then I guess he wasn’t feeling well cause his face turned bright red and he couldn’t finish eating, and he let me have the rest.

Emmet you dumb pile of bricks, he thought you were flirting with him

“Brickowski were heading back to the station,” Bad Cop said, signalling for him to follow.

“Coming Officer Boss Sir,” and Emmet jogs behind next to Unikitty as Rex tries to explain to Emmet that you can't just finish another man's croissant.

[areyoureddie]

Stormy Nights (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Richie and Eddie are both teenagers (roughly 16) and both of their family lives are getting worse, particularly Richie’s. One night Richie cant take it anymore and sneaks through Eddie’s window to stay the night.

Warning(s): Mentions of emotional and mental abuse, cussing, FLUFF/ANGST??? fuck i love reddie

A/N: Hello all! My main account is @edsrich and I wont be posting my imagines for IT here anymore is based around marvel-  but I created this one here! And I livE AND BREATHE for Reddie.  Yes, this takes place whilst the Losers Club are all in their teen years, frankly because I find it easier to write certain things that aren’t as cute and innocent (despite Richie & the other boys being fAR from iNNocent). I hope you enjoy! Feedback, positive and negative is appreciated!

Eddie laid in bed watching ‘Little Shop of Horrors’, whilst wearing a navy shirt and oversized sweats to keep him comfy. It was currently 9PM on a random Wednesday in the middle of Summer, today was a basic day; it involved hanging out with Bill and Richie for the day as Stan, Ben and Mike were busy. 

Ever since the incident that happened back in 1989, some had became distant from the group more than others. Beverly moved away the day after the losers defeated Pennywise itself, whilst Stan slowly distanced himself and Mike seemed to be working a lot. Ben was just busy on this random day and couldn’t hang out with the other boys.

Eddie rumbles a grunt in the back of his throat, sitting up and adjusting his white pillowcases in a more comfortable position and he places his smaller frame back down onto his mattress and continues to watch ‘Little Shop of Horrors’. 

Ripples of lightning sliced through the cloud smothered sky, alongside with the summer showers that poured down upon the town of Derry, which alone created a moody atmosphere for Eddie. Eddie flinched as the crackles from the rumbling thunder shocked him every now and then. Branches tapped against his window as the wind swirled them against the glass repeatedly, too startling the teen.

Suddenly, a large bang- much larger than the small twigs- impacted the glass of the window, causing Eddie to squeak.

The startled boy frantically looked to where the noise was, only to see large bulky glasses and brown curly hair. Richie.

Eddie, at first, thought he was seeing things-  which caused him to raise his hands and wipe his eyes from the sleep that stuck in his inner corners, but to no avail- it was Richie, soaked for that matter.

Eddie stood up, walking over to his window and slowly and silently opened the window- careful not to wake his over protective mother, he quickly helped his best friend into his room with a soft grunt and no noise from Richie.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie whispered a bit, rain splatting his pale cheeks before quickly shutting the window before any more rain flew inside.

“It’s nice to see you too, Eds.” Richie mumbled, for once not making a snarky remark.

Eddie went over to his door, shutting it before looking over his shoulder. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The corner of Richie’s lips tugged up into his signature smirk at Eddie’s signature remark to his own, as he removed his thick rimmed glasses, attempting to wipe away the droplets that stuck to his lenses. He pushed his fingers inside of his wet shirt and rubbed the material against the glass, his attempts failing.

“Here, hold on.” Eddie sighed, walking up to the taller boy and taking the glasses away and using his own shirt to smear away the droplets, this time much more successfully.

Richie watched, his tongue poking his cheek with his thoughts all over the place- but continued to keep remotely silent unless he was spoken too.

Eddie finished cleaning his friends glasses, before holding them up and putting them on Richie’s face for him, a confused look remaining on his face as he watches Richie’s eyes grow larger due to the lenses that were suited for his eye sight.

“What happened, Richie? Why are you here- I-I mean, I’m not complaining but this is just fucking unusual.” Eddie rambled a bit, a voice crack slipping into his sentance 

This caused Richie to smirk despite the emotions he currently was feeling, Eddie knew his background and what his family was like. He knew his Mother was an alcoholic and that his Father was just plain cruel to him for no apparent reason. Both parents had in fact told him this very night that they would’ve rather had a daughter than for him to even exist. Sure, his Mother was drunk; his Father was beyond stressed, but he was sober and agreed with every word that his Mother slurred.

Not to mention, ‘a drunken mans words is a sober mans thoughts’, even if his Mother wasn’t a man.

“It was them again, Eds.”

Eddie chose to ignore the nickname that he had a love-hate feeling for, instead becoming concerned, “Who?” 

Richie sighed, “Mom and Dad, as fucking usual. I fucking hate them.” His cusses had a bite to them, the brown hairs of his eyebrows furrowing more and more.

Eddie quickly realised the situation, “Oh shit, alright- fuck, um, do you want some of my clothes to sleep in?”

Richie smiled genuinely, glad he had Eddie as his friend. “Yeah.”

Eddie nodded, turning and kneeling as he dug through his pyjama’s drawer, nervously shoving away the porno magazines that were messily tossed at the top of the pile. He as a teenage boy had his needs, but that wasn’t what he was embarrassed about showing or even Richie seeing- he was embarrassed incase Richie saw that his porn stash wasn’t full of lewd pictures of women, but of the opposite gender.

Richie looked around the familiar bedroom, seeing posters of movies that Eddie was fond of and even photographs of him in his childhood and with his friends, being Bill, Stan and himself with Eddie dangling on the end next to Richie.

Richie’s eyes then snapped to the cheap TV, smirking to himself. “Little Shop of Horrors? Really? This is what you come home to and watch for fun?”

Eddie frowned, without looking at Richie. “Little Shop of Horrors is in fact, one of the best movies of all time.” 

“No, Eds, it’s one of your best movies that you like. Hell, it’s a damn musical.” Richie snickered.

“Actually, Richie, it’s labelled as a Science Fiction and Romance movie, which to me is quite entertaining.”

“But it’s funny because you’re watching a movie with ‘Horror’ in the title.”

“Now why is that funny?” Eddie spoke stubbornly, standing up and turning to look at his friend with a shirt and sweatpants in his arms.

“Because you cried in fear watching Jaws, Eds.” 

Heat rose to Eddie’s cheeks, scoffing as he didn’t push the subject any more and dropped the clothes onto his bed.

“I’ll just turn around whilst you change, you can’t leave this room just incase my Mom comes in and see’s you.”

“Your Mom has already seen all of me, Eds.”

“That’s so not funny.” Eddie grumbled angrily, his nose lightly scrunching up at Richie’s words.

Richie rolled his eyes smugly, smirking towards his friend. “Whatever Eds, I’m sure you’ll be tempted to turn around.”

The heat flared even more on Eddie’s cheeks, his eyebrows furrowing and turning around. “Whatever, shut up and change.”

Richie stared at the small boys frame, his eyes wandering for a second as he began to strip and too turning away to look out the window. Awkward silence filled the air, the two boys hearts pounding profusely for each other, without the other knowing it yet.

Richie holds up the shirt once the sweat pants are slid on in front of his bare chest, tilting his head. 

“Now, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Eddie turns around, again- his heart pounding in his throat and his blush spreading to his chest. “Put it on, asshole!”

“I don’t like sleeping in shirts dude, you know this.” Richie partly whined this comment, stomping his bare foot lightly against the creaking wood beneath him.

Eddie hesitated his words, “Fine, but don’t be fucking creepy about it.”

Richie hummed in satisfaction, plotting his rear on the bed that belonged to his best friend, bouncing on it for a second. “Your bed is comfy.”

“Oh, thanks?” Eddie tilted his head in confusion before sighing and going to his VHS system, “Since you’re a huge hater on Little Shop of Horror’s, what do you want to watch?”

Richie stood up, walking behind the smaller boy with one hand on the upper side of his body and looking over his shoulder at the selection of VHS tapes to choose from, causing Eddie to stiffen up at first, only centre-meters were between Richie’s bare chest and Eddie’s back. “What do you have for me to choose from?”

“U-Uh, I got Star Wars, Dirty Dancing- um, Back to the Future, Batman-”

“Hold up, did you say Dirty Dancing?”

“Yes, I did. It is a beautiful romance musical about dirty dancing, what more could you want?” Eddie spoke with annoyed sarcasm, frowning, “Just because it’s in my collection, doesn’t mean I watch it dumbass.”

Richie grinned at Eddie’s temper flaring slightly, “Calm down, Eds. Its fine if you want to watch dirty dancing at 1AM, we all understand.” Richie teased, “How about we watch Batman?”

Eddie ignored Richie’s teases once again, before nodding and grapping the VHS tape that was labelled ‘Batman’, taking out Little Shop of Horrors and sliding in the new tape.

The rain poured down heavier and violently pitter pattered against the window, the cold air chilling the two boys equally.

“Nice weather we’re having, don’t you agree?”

“Fucking lovely.” Eddie retorted, chuckling a bit and responding with equal sarcasm.

The two eventually laid down side by side on the bed side by side with the lights off and Batman playing in front of them in low quality. Their arms grazed each other every now and then, as well as their legs too.

“I’m sorry about what happened with your parents.” Eddie whispered over the film’s sound.

Richie took his eyes away from the screen, looking down at his friend. “Don’t be, they’re assholes.”

“They are, but you don’t deserve that shit.”

“Yeah, neither do you though. Your Mom’s a bitch too.” Richie sighed this out, inching closer to Eddie.

“I know but, both of your parents… you know-”

“Hate me, yeah I get it.” Richie mumbled, “I’m not surprised, I’m a shit son. I’d hate me too.”

Eddie sits up lightly, frowning at Richie’s harsh words that were stabs at himself. “Not everyone hates you Richie.”

“I’m annoying, I put up this stupid act and I make unnecessary dick jokes all the time.”

“I don’t hate you…” Eddie trailed off, blushing a bit but hoping it was hidden by the dark room. 

“It’s actually weird to hear someone say that to me, considering I get it all the time.” Richie chuckled dryly, sighing and tilting his head back. “Thankyou, Eds.”

Eddie didn’t even care in this moment that he was called ‘Eds’, but instead rested his head against Richie’s bare chest. Richie was at first startled with wide eyes, his cheeks becoming red instantly. But soon settled, his heart beating heavily and resting one arm around Eddie. His only hope was that Eddie couldn’t hear his heart.

Batman continued to play lowly in the background, but the boys only solely focused on each other and nothing else. Both becoming sleepy as the night carried on and it became later and later, both laying with each other like never before.

Eventually, Richie used his free arm to take his glasses away from his eyes and places them on the side table of Eddie’s bed quietly, yawning whilst Eddie snuggled a little closer sleepily, with lidded eyes.

“You know, Eds? I’m really fucking glad I have you in my life.” Richie whispers to a half asleep Eddie.

Eddie just about lets out a dazed smile with closed eyes, “I love you too, Richie.”

Richie’s cheeks steam up, his eyes widening a bit and he slowly shifts his eyes to the boys well kept head of hair, rubbing his fingers into his shoulder and pulling him closer as Eddie, unknown of confessing his feelings, drifts into a sleep.

Richie then, noticing that his best friend has fallen asleep- leans down carefully, without wakening him, and then presses his chapped lips that had a small taste of cigarettes and candyfloss against Eddie’s temple.

“I love you more, Eds.”

[reader-imagines-blog]

First Impressions (Charles Xavier x Reader)

REQUEST: I was wondering if you could write one about Charles Xavier of course when he Is young 😂, were he meets you and he is pretty site to you are a mutant so he wants to help you find your power. But you now you are not one and in the end he always new that also and he only wanted to spend time with you because he love you hahaha hahaha 😂😂😂 

a/n: helloo! this one took me a bit to write, sorry love! my wifi was down when we got home and i just got it back yikes 

ps: i mightve changed the request a teeeensy bit only cause it seemed like a slightly manipulative thing for charles to do? 

anyways, i hope you enjoy :) 

@zamaryzamary 

WORD COUNT: 1,178 

*********************************** 

Y/N's shift at the bar had been going great that night. Four hours in, $300 in tips, and no sleazy men offering her their room keys. So far, so good. 

The night grew slow after 9PM, much slower than usual considering how upscale the hotel was. So slow that Y/N's boss had given her permission to close early and Y/N wasn't going to complain. A short shift on a Friday and good tips? Unheard of. 

Just as Y/N was putting away the last of the clean glasses, two men entered the empty bar. Y/N looked up at the sound of barstools scraping and almost sighed aloud. 

'I knew I should have locked the door before cleaning. Nice goin', Y/N.' 

Y/N begrudgingly made her way along the bar, trying to keep her expression neutral. Technically, the bar didn't close until 1AM. It was only 11. Too early to kick them out.

The shorter of the two men looked up at Y/N when she stopped in front of them, his blue eyes raking up her form where they stopped at her face. His hair fell into his eyes and he smiled brilliantly. Y/N just raised a brow and looked between him and his friend. 

"What can I get you guys?" 

The other man, looking particularly intimidating in a black turtleneck and leather jacket, rolled his eyes at his friend and ordered straight whiskey. Y/N inwardly sighed in relief at the simplicity of the order. Y/N looked to the other man, awaiting his request. 

"Well, your number would be perfect, darling." 

Y/N rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at a pick-up line. The two had obviously already been drinking, and blue-eyes was absolutely trashed. He reeked of alcohol. 'So this is how this is gonna go.' 

"Ooh. Tough luck, we just ran out of that. Anything else?" 

The man in the turtleneck cracked a smirk at the put-out expression on his friend's face. "He'll have the same." 

Y/N nodded and turned to fix their drinks, wishing silently that another patron would walk into the bar. This was horrifyingly awkward. 

One of the men cleared his throat, interrupting the silence. When he began speaking, Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Oh. Flirty McBritish Guy again.' 

"I'm Charles, by the way. And this is Erik. My name is most certainly not 'Flirty McBritish Guy', Y/N." 

Y/N almost dropped the two glasses of whiskey, hurting her neck with how quickly she turned around. 

"Excuse me...?" 

The other man, Erik, was looking at Charles questioningly. Charles looked at him and quirked a brow, head tilting in Y/N's direction. He mouthed a couple words drunkenly and Erik's brows rose in realization: "Mutant." 

Y/N watched the entire exchange, completely confused. "How did you know my name? 

"I read your mind." The man, Charles, said it as though it was the most casual thing in the world. Like he hadn't just heard her thoughts. Erik was side-eyeing Charles, cursing his drunkenness for its current possibility of scaring off a new recruit. 

Y/N's confused expression turned angry. "You read my mind? Listen, buddy, I get that you're drunk off your ass, but people can't read minds. Now how the hell did you kn-" 

Erik decided to take the lead from his very intoxicated friend. "We're like you, Y/N. And, we know others like you." 

Y/N furrowed her brow, her face contorted in confusion. "What the hell do you mean 'others like me'? What is this?" 

Y/N was beginning to grow impatient. She put the whiskey glasses in front of the two men, her hands coming to her hips. "Who are you?" 

Charles smiled, "We aren't here to hurt you. We're mutants, like you, Y/N. We're here with an offer." 

Y/N was completely, utterly, hopelessly confused. 

Erik looked to Charles, eyebrows raised. His look communicated his thought perfectly: "Are you sure she's a mutant?" 

Charles responded mentally: "Just bear with me here." 

Erik glared harshly at Charles. "So she's not a mutant then? Charles, we don't have ti-" 

Erik's mental tirade was interrupted when Charles cut their communication. Erik continued to glare at his friend, hoping that his hangover tomorrow would be excruciating to act as payback for this. 

Y/N looked on, irritation visible in her features as she watched their silent communication. "What offer?" 

Charles smiled flirtatiously instead of the genial way he had before. "A date. With me." 

Erik sighed, dropping his head onto the bar with a dull thud, mumbling. "Dear Christ, Charles." 

Y/N rose a single eyebrow, more angry than bemused. "That's what this is? You invaded my head, tricked your friend into thinking I was a -what did you call yourselves? Mutants?" 

Charles nodded, his smirk having fallen into a sheepish smile. Y/N continued and Erik smirked as Charles got told off. 

"A mutant, thank you. You scare the piss out of me, someone that you have just met, all so you can be a creep and ask me on a date?" 

Charles nodded slowly, his gaze apologetic as he began to see past his drunken haze. "Probably wasn't the greatest first impression, was it?" 

Y/N shook her head. "No. No it wasn't. Get out of my bar. And maybe stop drinking for tonight before you tell the whole world that you can read minds." 

Erik chuckled amusedly, patting a downtrodden Charles on the back as he stood. "You had that coming, my friend. Let's go." 

Charles stood also, looking back at Y/N. "I am truly sorry. I don't know what on Earth I was thinking." 

Y/N kept her gaze hard, trying not to smirk at how genuinely upset he looked. "You weren't thinking. Whiskey will do that." 

Charles nodded, his head low as he exited the bar before Erik. The latter fished out his wallet, paying for the untouched drinks and tipping Y/N generously. 

"I apologize for him. Have a nice night, miss. And, it might bode well for you to not tell anyone what happened tonight." Erik turned to leave but was stopped by Y/N calling out for him. 

"Hold on a sec!" 

Erik turned to see Y/N scribbling something on her order-pad before ripping the piece of paper out and handing it to him. It was her phone number. Erik's brows almost disappeared into his hairline as he looked at the scrap of paper, disbelieving. "You're not serious." 

Y/N smirked, "His hangover is going to be killer tomorrow. He might as well have something pleasant to wake up to. I think it says a lot that he didn't just dig around my head for my number. And, he has the whole 'handsome-British' thing going for him, so that's a plus." 

Erik was still stood in disbelief and Y/N laughed. "Now seriously, get out of my bar so I can close." 

Erik shook his head, turning to exit the bar as he mumbled to himself, "Charles, you lucky bastard."

[mercieshana]

1 am

Genre: Kim Taehyung x reader smut Word count: 1.6k “Teaser”: Your boyfriend that’s currently touring the world with his band-members, unexpectedly calls you in the middle of the night with a “problem” ;-). Author’s note: Heyyyyyy guys! I haven’t been around lately, cause I’ve been busy living my life. Tests, friends, obligations etc. got in the way of me and this blog - pretty much life has made it hard to post things. I’ve been writing up quite a few scenarios, but I just haven’t finished any of them. This is just a random idea that came to mind and I just went with the flow. I hope you guys like it, since quite a few have been asking me for a V smut…. so here you Tae-lovers go! I tried to proof read it, but it's so late and I probably read over some of the typos! Sorry about that! I’m tired af! Enjoy hanas!

You were ripped from your pleasant slumber by your phone’s loud ringtone, the special music immediately informing you that it was your boyfriend calling. “Ugh”, you rolled over and swiped right to answer your boyfriend’s FaceTime call, the brightness of your phone screen making it hard to open your eyes, as they had not yet been able to adapt to the shift from the familiar darkness to the bright light. When you were finally able to open your eyes, you were greeted by your boyfriend’s smiling face as he stared into the camera and at the video icon in the corner of his phone screen; which was showing your illuminated and balled up face. “Hello beautiful girlfriend!”, he ran a hand through his thick, shiny hair, trying to charm you with his sweet words. “What the fuck, Tae? It’s 1am!”, you exclaimed as you rubbed your tired eyes, yawning in the process. “I know! But, (Y/N), there’s a problem!”, he made a pouty face, using his cuteness on you. “What kind of problem?”, your brows furrowed while you were trying to battle the tiredness in your system, so you could listen to your boyfriend’s problem. You watched him back up and smirk at the screen. “The one in my pants.”, he wiggled his brows and then stared down at the prominent bulge in his sweat pants. “Kim Taehyung! You are calling me at 1am, forcefully breaking apart my sleep and I, because you have a boner!?”, you whispered, your voice full of disbelief. “Yes, plus I’m being considerate.”, he nodded confidently. “Considerate? How so?”, you scoffed as the anger inside you began to rise. “I was thinking you might want to see this.”, he licked his lips, before slowly removing his black hoodie and then slipping out of his sweats and boxers simultaneously, revealing his sexy and toned body that was definitely created by God himself. Why was your boyfriend such a tease? He was on tour, thousands of miles away and yet he still teased you! You hated the effect he was having on you, your panties unconsciously becoming moist at the sight of his naked body. As your eyes scanned his body, paying special attention to his long, thick cock that was standing at attention, you felt a fire light inside of you, a kind of passion. “You like what you see?”, he teasingly asked, his thumb rubbing over his tip and his hand then pumping his shaft a couple of times. Oh, how you wanted to replace his hands with your own. What you would not give to be there, on your knees with him towering over you while you pleasure him. Just the thought of your hands wrapped around his dick and your mouth on his tip, making you even wetter, your vivid imagination only adding fuel to the burning fire inside of your core. “Baby-girl, I asked you a question. Are you not going to answer?”, you were torn from your thoughts by his authoritarian voice that turned you on so much. Baby-girl, boy you loved it when he called you that. “Y-yes, daddy. I like what I see.”, you eagerly replied. “That’s a good girl.”, he nodded approvingly. “Baby-girl, do you want to help daddy cum?”, he asked in a deep and lusty voice, his eyes completely focused on you as he pumped himself. “Yes, daddy.”, you immediately replied, knowing that good girls do not make their masters wait. “Good. Tell daddy what you would do if you were here.”, he demanded, setting a train of thought into motion. Your mind bloomed as you thought of all the things you would like to do to him at the moment. “I would suck you off, daddy.”, your lips formed the words without you even giving the command for them to do so. “Would you now? Give daddy some more details, baby-girl”, you watched him stoke himself in the bathroom, his head falling back and his teeth sinking into his plump bottom lip. “First, I would drop to my knees and look up at you.”, you began to give him a detailed description of what you would be doing if you were there when him, in that bathroom. You could tell you were having an effect on him, as he screwed his eyes shut and his brows furrowed. “Then I would pump your wonderful, proud cock a few times, before I trace the vein on the bottom side of your dick from the base to the head.”, you continued your description and he began to increase the speed of his hand that was wrapped around himself. You began to rub your legs together for some kind of friction, before you resumed your explanation that your boyfriend was impatiently waiting for you to finish. “After that I would swirl my tongue around your tip and engulf you with my mouth, using one of my hands to wrap around your cock and pump the areas my mouth is unable to reach; and using my other hand to massage your balls.”, you imagined his long shaft in your small mouth, his hand in your hair, guiding you onto his length. “(Y/N)”, he cried out as he continued to pump himself, increasing the speed. The heat in between your thighs was slowly becoming unbearable and you were no longer able to resist, lowering your hand down into your thong and slowly letting your fingers dance over your sensitive bundle of nerves while you continued your fantasy. Knowing good and well that you were touching yourself, Taehyung decided that he wanted to add to this fantasy you were telling him about. “Baby-girl, you know what daddy would do?”, he asked you in a hoarse voice and you replied with a “N-no, daddy.”, the pleasure you were giving yourself while this invention of your mind played in your head, making it hard to form words. “I would grab your hair and shove my cock down your throat. You know you have to keep your yaw nice and loose while daddy is fucking your mouth right baby?”, he told you, his body twitching with excitement and joy, his hand still going strong. “Daddy!”, you whined, increasing the speed and the pressure on your sensitive bud, your legs spread and your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “(Y/N)!”, he moaned as he tightened his grip on himself, leaning against the sink for some support. The sound of him moaning your name quickly driving you towards your climax, your other hand finding its way under your shirt to play with your nipples, your mind substituting your hands with his. You could tell by his low groans that he was close and you could not stop watching him twitch while your name was rolling off of his beautiful lips like a chant. Both of you were so close, your senses were heightened and both of your ears were absorbing every noise the other was making, a wild fantasy playing in both of your mind's eyes. “Daddy!”, you shouted loudly as you galloped towards your climax, your fingers strongly and quickly rubbing circles onto your clit as you sent yourself toppling over the edge, Taehyung following closely behind you. You watched him shout your name as his white seed shot from his slit, the white liquid shooting out like water from the opening of a water gun and you wished you would taste him. Sweating, you hair stuck to your forehead and breathing heavily the two of you slowly came down from your high. “Fuck, I came all over the bathroom floor. You made me make a mess, (Y/N)!”, he cast the blame on you, breaking the comfortable silence and causing you both to bust out laughing. “It wasn’t even my fault!”, you giggled, absolutely happy. “So I take it your not mad anymore?”, he raised his brows, smiling at you through the camera and batting his eyes innocently. “No.”, you sighed, annoyed that you could not any longer remember why you were even angry at him in the first place. “Ha!”, he laughed triumphantly and brushed the strands of hair that were sticking to his sweaty forehead out of his face, earning an eye-roll from you. “Well, I’m going to clean up this mess you had me make and then go take a shower. You should go back to sleep baby-girl. I’m sorry for waking you.”, he apologized, a lopsided smile creeping onto his face. “But daddy, I miss you so much. Especially between my legs. How are you going to take responsibility for making me all wet?”, you made a pouty lip, feigning innocence, your act totally contradicting with the lewd words that were slipping past your lips. “Don’t worry. Daddy will be back soon and take care of his precious, baby-girl. So be a good girl and go to sleep. Can you do that for daddy?”, he asked you, a familiar smirk returning to his lips. “Yes, daddy. I can’t wait to see you next week. I miss you”, you repeated, your heart hurting a bit at the thought of having to survive another week without him physically being by your side. “I can’t wait either! I miss you more, baby. Good night. Sweet dreams. I love you, baby.”, he said in the sweetest voice you had ever heard and those are the last words you remember, before hanging up and then immediately dozing off into the land of dreams and hopes. 

You really could not await his return, as it would be full of romance, love, comfort and skin-ship. With him back at home, you would finally be able to feel complete and at ease again. Next week couldn’t come fast enough!

PS..why’s V always going 0-100 so quick!? BTS fucks me up so much, lol! I’m probably going to delete the requests in my request-box, cause there are just too many and then you guys can submit new ones...... I’ll think about it. You guys can just message me if you want to DM me or send me feedback! Peace out Hanas! I’m gonna go hit the hay! 

~M