#like he always needs another dose‚ a stronger and stronger dose‚ until he blinks and he's on the altar tied up‚ ready to bleed

[introspectivememories]

coked-out bernard dowd, send tweet

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: angsty, explicit language, mentions of abuse/neglect, fear

WC: 3639

Chapter 3

“Bro…Lewis is going to kill us.” Hayes said, pacing the living room. “We lost his favorite omega.”

“We didn’t lose her… she escaped.” Milo corrected.

“And how do we tell him that? He’s going to want to know how she could have possibly escaped.” 

Milo didn’t say anything. Truth was…. Alpha Lewis had no idea they played a little hunting game with you when he was away. They knew he wouldn’t allow it for multiple reasons.

One - He wouldn’t want them playing with his favorite plaything

Two - She could learn the terrain and plan an escape

Three - She could be seen or found by another pack

So it was their little secret. And when he came home to find you more bruised and injured than when he left for the first time, they just said they got pissed off when you didn’t listen to their demands and punished you. Lewis just laughed and didn’t say more.

“He’s going to call any minute. And when he does, he’s going to expect everything to be normal here.” Hayes complains, annoyed with his little brother’s lack of care.

“So tell him it is… You’re an alpha too. Give us time to find her before he comes back.” Milo shrugs.

“He sees right through my lies. Plus she could be dead somewhere in those damn woods because you had the bright fucking idea to use cobalt.”

“Dude…it was a low dose. We wait until daylight and go looking for her. She won’t be dead by then.”

“Did you forget we also used silver pellets?”

“She’ll be fine. She’s like a cockroach.” Milo walked off, brushing off his worries.

Hayes didn’t like the idea of waiting till morning, but he didn’t say anything more. Honestly, he would be happy to rid himself of the omegas, but he knew every pack needed at least one. Having three made them stronger - or at least that’s what Lewis always says.

It was morning when your sedative wore off. You were sleeping… and you were actually comfortable and resting well for once. You didn’t want to wake up, but your mind had other ideas. You realized the foreign smell of the air you were breathing and slowly opened your eyes. Blinking slowly, you took in the room. The fluorescent lights were blinding so you shaded your eyes. Wincing, you look at the bruises on your arm then notice the blanket covering you. You haven’t had a blanket since you were a kid.

You caressed the soft, fuzzy texture and smiled to yourself. You should take this with you when you run. But you didn’t want to piss off whoever lived here by stealing. So you pushed off the blanket, gingerly climbing from the bed. You notice a clear bag hanging from a pole, wondering what was inside it that seemed to be feeding into your arm. 

What if it’s some kind of sedative… Or poison!? You thought and, in a panic, snatched the needle from your arm. 

Looking around the room, it reminded you of the exam rooms from your childhood. There were cabinets full of supplies, counters, a padlocked cabinet labeled ‘MEDICINE’, a fridge, and two doors - one labeled ‘CLOSET’ and the other labeled ‘BATHROOM’. There was a final door that was unmarked, so you assumed it was the exit. 

There was no one in the room with you so maybe you could sneak out of this place before they realize you’re awake. Not that you have anywhere to go. The last place you want to go is back to the Nyko pack, but these packs were worse and would kill you without hesitation. Or so the Nykos led you to believe.

Your feet ached, although not as bad as last night, as you padded over to the door. Carefully and quietly, you twist the knob. Opening the door slowly, you take in the grand room. It was a spacious living room with a brown and tan color scheme. It was so clean and organized but also gave you a cozy feeling. As you step out into the room and walk forward, you instinctively reach your hand out to touch the leather sofa. It was soft and without any holes or tears.

Must be brand new…rich people. You thought with an eye roll.

It was well lit, the light pouring in from large windows and double doors on the left wall. You could see the yard lined with trees through the windows and you wondered if it stretched to the forest you were running in. Suddenly all the memories of last night came rushing back. The brothers hunting you, the sting of the pellets, the rough ground beneath your feet…

“Morning. Glad to see you awake.” Felix spoke quietly so as to not scare you.

But he did. You jumped and he raised his hands up in innocence.

“It’s okay. You’re safe here.” His voice was warm and calming, but you knew not to fall for it. 

He had shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes…so so blue. And cute freckles dusted his cheeks. Catching the spiral of your thoughts, you look away and ignore the little voice in your head that wants to trust him. You steal a glance at the door, gauging how far away it was and if he would catch you before you could open it. He definitely would if it was locked.

“Please don’t run. We don’t want to hurt you. You need to rest and heal.” he spoke, taking a cautious step toward you.

You growled, flinching away.

“It’s okay. I just want to help you. Can I at least know your name?” He smiled at you.

The smile was pretty and made you- FOCUS. He’s the enemy.

Suddenly the doors opened and in walked a rather buff young man. He was sweating and panting as he sipped some water. He stopped dead in his tracks when he laid eyes on.

“Wow..I-” he shook his head. “Hi. I’m Changbin.”

He smiled at you but you didn’t notice, instead looking back at the double doors. It definitely wasn’t locked now. You bolted for the door, ignoring your body’s painful protest of the strenuous activity.

“Oops…my bad.” Changbin muttered.

Felix rolled his eyes before running after you.

You ran as hard as you could, the territory was unfamiliar and you didn’t know where you were going. Your feet hurt so bad and you wanted to stop. Looking back, you could no longer see the house. No one was behind you either. So you slowed, stopping to catch your breath. You immediately fell to the ground, panting.

“We need to get you in shape.” another voice spoke.

You looked up, eyes wide as you took in the man in front of you. It was the alpha - Alpha Chan. You immediately ducked your head and prayed for a quick death.

Chan stepped closer to you and squatted in front of you. He tilted his head as he studied you but you refused to look at him. You breathed heavily, your lungs burning as you anticipated his wrath. But nothing came as the silence hung heavy over the two of you.

“I’m Chan. And I’m guessing you can tell I’m the Alpha? My pack brought you here when they found you injured. We just want to help you…. What’s your name?” Chan tried. Wow this was going to be a challenge for him - he wasn’t exactly known for his patience.

You said nothing.

“Would you please come back and have some breakfast at least. We have a whole spread.” Chan pleaded with you, holding out a hand.

“There you are.” the young blonde from before came up behind you. 

Feeling cornered… you scurried off to the side. Chan glared at him for scaring you, making him lower his head. But he moved closer regardless and spoke in a low voice as he knelt down to your level. 

“Please come eat with us.” 

You felt a bit calmer and you knew it was probably the Alpha making you feel this way with his stupid pheromones.  

Maybe just one meal. And then I’ll be strong enough to run away. You thought. Your stomach growled loudly at the thought of food and you cursed its timing.

“Please come with us.” Alpha Chan broke the silence.

You dared to look up at them before a quick nod as you looked back to the ground.

“Great.” Chan stood and held out a hand once more.

You didn’t take it and tried to stand on your own. Your muscles ached and protested but you pushed through. Chan clenched his jaw, watching you wince but he gave you your space. He led the way back to their house and you followed. 

“My name’s Felix.” the blonde spoke as he walked next to you.

You stole a glance at him and his smile was infectious - so infectious your lips turned up into a small smile as you looked back at the ground.

How are anyone’s eyes that deep of a blue?

Arriving back at the house, you realize how big it actually is, taking in the full backside. There were three levels to the craftsman style. The stone and brown siding made it so warm and inviting.

You walked back through the double doors and the two led you up a set of stairs you didn’t notice before. On the main level was the kitchen with an open floor plan to the dining area and living room. A large stone fireplace with a huge flat screen was on the far wall. On either side of the fireplace were windows that stretched up to the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the room and making it feel massive. The view outside was gorgeous. The yard, the trees, and the mountain range were breathtaking. 

There was a staircase leading upstairs behind you, with rod iron railing that curved towards the front door. It was a large door with frosted glass in the top half.

“This way.” Felix pulled your attention away and gestured towards the kitchen.

You turned to his direction and followed after him. The kitchen was bustling with people - too many people. You froze as all their smells mingled in the air and clouded your nose. There were too many different smells to differentiate but they all smelt so…good. It was intoxicating to say the least. None of the Nykos smelled like this. 

“Alright, everyone listen up.” Chan said, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “We have a new house guest staying with us. So please treat her with kindness and patience. Keep the volume down and behave.”

Your cheeks flushed red as everyone turned to look at you. A few gasps were heard as everyone stared. You looked down, avoiding their gazes.

“Stop staring.” Felix insisted, and they all were quick to resume what they were doing. 

You wondered how long the show would last before their true selves would be revealed. But you were hungry so you would entertain them for now.

“Hey. Sorry if I startled you earlier.” one of the boys approached you. You remembered he was the one who opened the door - Changbin.

You looked down and twiddled your fingers.

“Let’s get you some food, yeah?” Changbin suggested.

You gave a nod and followed him over to the counter. There was an array of food laid out on the island - anything you could possibly want was there. Two of the boys moved out of the way so you could go first. Changbin handed you a plate and you took it, tapping your nails on the underside as you figured out what to pick first.

Changbin reached for some eggs, waffles and fruit as you watched. Well if they were eating the food, it wasn’t poisoned. You reached for a pancake and placed it on your plate. You then put a bit of eggs and two pieces of sausage as well.

“That’s all you want?” Changbin questioned, looking worried.

You put a few strawberries on your plate and then stepped back. He chuckled at you but didn’t say anything else. After he piled food on his plate, having a little bit of everything, he led you to the dining table. You sat on the end next to him.

“What would you like to drink?” Changbin asked.

Looking at the table, you noticed two staring at you. They weren’t eating their food, just looking at you. One had full cheeks and smiled at you. The other had a slimmer face, and black hair with brown highlights. He just stared at you like a deer in headlights. You look back at your plate when a hand rests on your shoulder.

You flinch, nearly falling out of your chair. 

“Whoa…relax. It’s just me.” Changbin explained as if that was supposed to make you feel better. “I just wanted to know what you wanted to drink.”

You blush as the others stare at you, looking down. Changbin’s heart dropped as he felt guilty and unsure what to do. Felix came over with a cup of yellow liquid and a cup of water, placing them both next to your plate. Everyone went back to chatting and eating as you sat there. 

Taking in the scents in the room around you, you realized you were surrounded by betas. Betas…and one alpha. But Chan wasn’t in the room. Great…. There was another alpha in his pack too. You swallowed hard, finally reaching for some of the food on your plate as you hoped he wouldn’t be another Hayes.

You ate the pancake and eggs, one sausage and the strawberries. The strawberries were amazing. You had never had them before, having only been fed bread and bones with slivers of meat on them. Occasionally porridge-like food was given, but not often. Strawberries were a delicacy you hadn’t had the pleasure of eating, until now.

Upstairs, Chan was in his room with Minho. The two of them whispering about you as Chan explained what happened last night to his right hand.

“She’s gotta be from Nyko. No one else is that cruel around here.” Chan noted.

Minho just nodded.

“Minho? Are you listening?”

“Yes.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep her though.”

“Why not?”

“We have an agreement with Nyko. If they find out we stole their Omega, do you really think they won’t null the agreement and try to overthrow us? We don’t have the numbers to fight them.”

“Did you miss the part where she’s my soulmate? AND Felix’s?”

“I heard that. I’m just saying…”

“We might not even need the numbers if we have her. You know having an omega in the pack, especially a bonded one, makes the pack stronger.”

“And you’re going to take the risk to bond with her?”

Chan didn’t say anything.

“Right. You know marking over a previous mark could kill the omega. She could sub drop.”

“I’m aware, Minho.” Chan rolled his eyes. “But I can’t send her back to be abused and neglected. I won’t.”

“I’m hungry.” Minho stood. “Let’s go meet this girl.”

“You going to eat that?” one of the guys asked you from across the table, gesturing at your sausage.

“Seungmin…let the girl eat. She needs it more than you.” Changbin scolded, mouth full of food.

“Not my fault Hyunjin ate the rest.” Seungmin pouted.

You pushed the plate towards him, too full to finish anyways.

“Really? Thanks!” He smiled, taking the sausage and eating it. “At least she’s nice.”

Changbin glared at him.

Amongst the scents in the air, the smell of musk and teakwood, with a hint of honey filled the air. You realized it was Chan returning from wherever he disappeared to. You watched as he fixed a plate, another new face coming behind him and doing the same. He wasn’t in here earlier and - oh. He was staring at you. 

It was a harsh stare. Almost like he was studying you. Or that he didn’t want you here. You sunk in your chair, his smell hitting you too. It was earthy, but like an expensive men’s cologne. It had a crisp, clean smell to it as well. He was also an alpha. There were three?!

Suddenly he put his plate down and stormed out. Chan looked his way, furrowing his brow. Everyone stopped talking and watched him go downstairs. Chan was quick to follow after him, leaving everyone clueless as to what just happened.

You took a small sip of the yellow liquid and your eyes widened.

“Never had orange juice before?” Felix asked.

You shook your head, taking another sip. He looked at you with sad eyes, exchanging glances with Changbin. Not that you noticed, finishing off the juice.

The doorbell rang, startling you. You watched as the full cheeked member got up from the table and went to answer the front door. He returned shortly after with a familiar face. It was the lady you saw last night in the room downstairs. You knew she was here for you so you sank into the chair. She stood behind Seungmin after stealing a piece of bacon from the island.

“Morning everyone.” She greeted. 

“Morning.” the pack all answered.

“Glad to see you mingling and eating today.” She was talking to you.

You looked at the table of boys, wanting to flee. They all smiled encouragingly at you and you didn’t know what to do.

“This is Doctor Quinn. She’s our on-call doctor for extreme situations. Pretty much anything Felix can’t handle.” Changbin informed you.

“Why don’t we get you looked at downstairs. I would like to see how you’re healing.” Quinn stated.

“Want me to come with?” Felix offered, looking at you.

You nodded.

Felix stood, clearing his dishes. You followed, standing and reaching for your plate.

“I got it. Go ahead.” Changbin reached for the plate in your hand.

You let him take it as you followed Doctor Quinn and Felix to the basement. Once you got down there, you saw Chan and the other on the couch. He wouldn’t look at you, but Chan smiled in your direction.

“Morning Chan. Morning Minho.” Doctor Quinn cheered.

“Morning.” Chan greeted warmly.

“Morning.” Minho mumbled.

You stepped into the room, seeing where you woke up. The walls felt like they were closing in on you and you backed up. The door shut behind you and you whipped around to see Felix had closed it.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asked. “I can open it. Want me to leave it open?”

You nod, not wanting to be trapped in here.

“Okay. Sure.” Felix was quick to reopen the door, leaving it wide open.

You turn to the doctor and she gestures you to the bed. She had adjusted it to be more of a chair now so you sat. She came over to you with gloved hands and reached for your arm. You flinched away.

“It’s alright. I just wanna look at how you’re healing.” Doctor Quinn explained.

You relax a bit and allow her to take your arm, twisting it to look at all the nearly healed wounds. She did the same with your other arm before asking you to sit forward. You did and she raised your shirt to look at your torso. 

You found yourself looking to Felix as if for reassurance that you were safe. He smiled at you the whole time, looking away when the doctor raised your shirt. No one has ever shown you that much decency…or any. 

“Well, you’re healing very nicely. I don’t think any of them will scar.” Doctor Quinn assured you.

She unwrapped the metal thing around her neck and you tensed. If your childhood memories of doctors were correct, it was just a stethoscope and shouldn’t hurt. So you let her put it to your chest and breathed as she requested while Felix wrapped something around your arm. He grabbed his own stethoscope and put it to your inner elbow. 

You watched him intently as he squeezed a black balloon. The thing around your arm tightened and you looked down at it.

“It’s just to measure your blood pressure. It just squeezes your arm.” Doctor Quinn reassured.

Felix listened intently before informing Doctor Quinn of your blood pressure.

“Vitals look good. I would say you are pretty healthy.” She smiled. “I should have taken blood while you were unconscious. Next time.”

You look to Felix and he just smiles at you.

“Felix, do you think you could give us a second?” Doctor Quinn asks.

“Sure.” I’ll be outside.” Felix nods before leaving.

A small whimper escaped your mouth.

“It’s alright. I just wanted to ask a few questions. Thought it might be easier without any of them around.”

You began to panic. What did she know? What did she want to know?

“Can you tell me your name?”

You say nothing. Afraid if they knew your name, they would send you back.

“I want to help you. This pack is good people. They will keep you safe and protect you. You have my word.” She begins. “You’re from the Nyko pack, aren’t you?”

You swallow thickly.

“I don’t work for them. There’s a few packs I help and none of them support the Nyko pack. That Lewis is an asshole. I would never help them. Which means I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re here. You’re safe.”

You mull over her words. Maybe other packs weren’t the problem. You wouldn’t put it past the Nykos to lie and scare you. So maybe they did just that…and this pack wasn’t as evil as he made them out to be. Maybe you wouldn’t have to run away. Maybe…just maybe you found a place to stay.

“Y/n…” you whisper. “My name is y/n.”

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1

Shout out to my Beta for inspiring, motivating, and pushing me! @its-the-solar-system

[mynotsohealthyobsession]

Disembodied 8/8

Warning: Mention of death // Angst // Fluff

Pairings: Adrian Raines X MC // Nik Ryder X MC

Words: 1.646

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7

Even tho this is the last chapter, I have made an epilogue that I plan to post soon! As always, tags in the reblog!

"I don't like this,” Nik said, glancing from the clock to Alex's body, nervously pacing around. "We are too close to the time limit."

"I agree." Seven hours and forty minutes had passed and neither Amy nor Alex had moved a muscle, looking paler every second. 

“I knew this was a bad idea!”

“I tried to persuade Amy to search for another solution but her mind was set.” For a second, a smile lifted his mouth. “She can be truly stubborn.”

“Same as Alex.” 

"My science team developed a possible antidote just in case of this.” He pointed to a sterile table that had two identical syringes with a small dose of a white pearly liquid. “But we have to wait until the time is up otherwise it can be counterproductive.”

“It's too risky.”

“It's better than nothing.” Adrian declared and Nik nodded, agreeing with him.

Seven hours and forty-seven minutes. “C'mon, Alex, wake up,” Nik said, intensively, standing near to her. 

Adrian walked to Amy, sitting beside her, taking her hand in his. “Please, Amy… I'm begging you…” He kissed her knuckles, tightly closing his eyes, keeping his lips there for a few seconds. “Please, open your eyes.” Seven hours and fifty-two minutes. “Be prepared.” He said to Nik and both men head to the table, each taking a syringe. 

Seven hours and fifty-seven minutes. They got close to the beds. “We have to inject it into their hearts.” Adrian's voice was stiff and grave. 

“...Okay,” Nik responded, clenching his jaw.

Seven hours and fifty-eight minutes. They stood in front of them both, attentively watching them as the seconds became another minute.

Seven hours and fifty-nine minutes. Nik and Adrian got closer to both Amy’s and Alex's bodies.

Fifty seconds. Both men keep watching the timer, ready to act.

Forty-five seconds in. They took off the lid of the syringes.

“It has to be precisely at eight hours,” Adrian said, with his shoulder stiff with tension. Forty-seven seconds. “Otherwise–” Almost at the same time, Amy and Alex gasped, coming back to their senses. 

Their respiration was ragged, taking heavy breaths, and blinking fast. Slowly, their natural skin color was returning to their face as they sat on the beds. 

Amy looked around, stopping at him. Her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes he had fallen for, focused on him.

"Amy?" Adrian asked, dropping the syringe on a nearby table. "Are you back?" 

"Well…" She looked at her hands and touched her face, turning to her side and smiling big at Alex, who returned the grin. "Unless there's two of Alex now, it's me." She stood up, stumbling, and Adrian rushed to her. In only a second he was holding her in his embrace, as relief washed over them both. He hugged her tightly and close, with one arm around her back and the other on her head, for what felt like an eternity. “God, I missed this.” She whispered in his ear.

“I missed it as well, Amy.” Adrian gently kissed her temple, feeling the familiarity of her skin, the usual softness of her hair, and the distinctive warmth of her heart. After a while only holding each other close, without words, Amy led her palms up his face, pulling him down. When their lips touched, their kiss was sensual and sweet at the same time, long and deep, forgetting the world around them. Amy gasped at it, overwhelmed with her new senses, making every sensation stronger. 

"Do you feel alright?" Adrian questioned her, studying even the smallest detail of her face, concerned. 

"I do." Amy covered his lips with hers again, ready for the rush of feelings this time. "I guess it's the vampire powers kicking in."

"Amy, there's so many things I need to say to you." Amy moved her arms around his neck, hugging and pulling him closer. "That night, in the Met, I decided this without your consent and I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry that I Turned you without discussing it beforehand. I hope you can forgive me. The mere thought of losing you was unbearable to me. I–" She cut him off with another kiss, slow and sweet, slightly smiling into it as she felt him melting in her arms, relaxing into her touch like always. 

"There's nothing to forgive, Adrian. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave you, it was too soon." His forehead gently rested against hers. "I'm okay with your decision and I’m happy about it." 

"Are you certain?"

"Mhm. Absolutely." 

"You might not have heard me that night, Amy. But the truth is I should have told you sooner and under better circumstances." With the back of his right hand, he delicately caressed her face.

"Adrian?" He felt her heart speeding up in her chest. "What is it?"

"I love you, Amy. I love you like I never thought I was capable of. Losing you was one of the hardest things I had to face." He tightened his left arm around her waist, just enough to hold her against his chest. "If you want me, I want to be with you. Just with you. For as long as you'll have me." She smiled big, moved at his words. 

"I love you too, Adrian. You can't even imagine how much." Amy sighed, gently nuzzling into his neck. "I was so scared of losing you that night. Of not being able to stay with you or not telling you how I feel." Adrian turned slightly to his side, kissing her temple. “When Gaius had you in his hold, I just…”

"I know, Amy.” He sighed, closing his eyes, closing everything around him except her. “I was afraid as well, love." He felt Amy's smile on his skin. 

"Where is Alex and Nik?" She asked a little while later. 

"They left after you both woke up."

"I guess we'll leave that drink for another time," Amy added before pressing her mouth on his neck. “Not that I'm complaining.” 

"That's convenient.” Gently, he guided her face up, finding her lips halfway, and placing another kiss on them. A kiss that marked their new life together. “I want you to myself tonight.”

***

Nik rushed to Alex's side, carelessly dropping the syringe somewhere, taking her arm when she stumbled. "Easy, rook."

“Thanks.” She said, clutching his arm for a little until she stood firm again. With his free hand, he pulled her to a warm hug, still holding her hand in his and squeezing her closer. 

“What do you say if we get out of here? These two are getting way too cloying.” Nik said, sending a look to Amy and Raines.

“Led the way.” When she was pulling her hand away, he, awkwardly first, took it, leading her outside the lab, and to the front door of the building, taking his bow in the way. The air was warm and the night quiet as they walked in silence. Nik took one last left turn and stopped in front of a small bar. “Well, this wasn’t what I was expecting.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I think that is exactly where we should be.” He picked a secluded table, ordered the drinks, sweet for her, bitter for him, and, when they arrived, Alex took the first sip. 

“I’m guessing you brought me here to talk.” She said, looking into his blue eyes.

“I took you here to celebrate. But I’m down for the talk if you are.” Alex sighed, leaving her glass on the table.

“What I told you is true, Nik. I do love you. And it really did hurt me how you could walk away. So… Easily.”

“It wasn’t easy at all.” “Didn’t seem that way.”

“I have feelings for you, Alex. Strong feelings that I’m not used to having. And that scares the hell out of me.” She observed him, without interrupting, letting him say all that he needed. “Everyone that had ever been close to me, has died, sooner or later. And I don’t want that to happen to you. When I saw you on the floor, with your chest open and blood everywhere… I thought that, maybe, if you hadn’t been close to me, you'd be fine.” 

“Nik… Can’t you see all the times you have protected me?” Alex asked, holding his hand over the table. For a second, he looked at it, incredulous, until his finger tangled with hers, and his eyes returned to hers. “I won’t die on you. Not ever again.” She squeezed his hand. “I won’t leave you. Unless that is what you want.” 

“...No. I want you with me.” She let a little smirk lift the corners of her mouth.

“That’s beautiful to hear but I need you to tell me how you really feel, Nik.” She noticed how his walls started to crumble so got closer to him, her leg touching his, her eyes pleading with him. “Please. You can't keep shutting me out anymore.” There was a long, intense pause before he talked again. 

“I want to be with you. All the time.” His tone was a bit secure as she smiled, happy. “I… I love you too, Alex.” She stretched up, taking his lips with hers, as her hands held his neck and he grasped her waist, responding to the kiss. 

“Are you sure you really feel like that and it’s not because I died?” She whispered, barely separating from him. “If I hadn't died, would you feel like this?” He saw the concern in her eyes.

“The fact that you died only showed me what an idiot I was for letting you go and for hurting you.” He hesitated, unsure of his next words, distractedly playing with the hem of her t-shirt. “I’ve… Been in love with you before that happened, Alex.” She smiled and kissed him again. She didn’t need to hear anymore.

“I love you too.”

✨️

[mypoisonedvine]

vignettes of a bond || alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

I originally wrote this in two parts for my sleepover but after I realized how long it accidentally became, I've reformatted it, added/changed a few things, and made into a oneshot!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: smut, angst, knotting, violence

June 2nd, 1943, 11:43 p.m., James Barnes’ bedroom

“I wanna do it, before I go,” he whispered against your skin. “But I know it’s wrong. It’s too cruel.”

“No, please,” you whimpered, “I want it. I want your mark.”

Bucky pulled back for a moment and you examined your Alpha’s face carefully, knowing it might be the last time for a long time. “I couldn’t bond to you and then leave you. It wouldn’t be fair… you deserve to find somebody who can stay, and be with you, and protect you.”

“All I want is you,” you whispered. “Please, Alpha… bite me.”

You saw him hesitate for a moment before he leaned in and sucked at your neck, building the anticipation before he finally sunk his teeth into your skin and you cried out, one single tear rolling down your cheek. “Mine,” he growled against your skin as he lapped at the healing wound, “my Omega. Forever.”

“Yours, only yours,” you agreed eagerly.

It wasn’t the first time Bucky had taken you, but that night he really and truly claimed you, left you a desperate begging mess, stretched out over his knot as he filled you over and over.

The next morning, you were still sore between your legs as well as on your new mark, and it took everything in you to be strong as you saw him off at the train station, waving goodbye and praying that your Alpha would return to you soon.

November 9th, 1943, 2:24 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“You promised Bucky you’d take care of me,” you reminded him with a little smile, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I know,” Steve relented, “but we both know I can’t do that. Not in this state. But maybe I can protect you if I do this. Maybe I can protect my country. I owe it to everyone, especially Bucky, to try.”

You nodded. “But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. Come see me before I ship out for good, alright?”

“Of course,” you agreed.

December 27th, 1943, 8:32 a.m., your front porch

“You’re lying,” you gasped as you shook your head. “You’re wrong, no, it’s not true.”

“It is,” Steve promised as tears welled in his eyes, “I’m so so sorry, I saw it myself, I had to watch him fall…”

“It’s not true! He’s not dead!”

“I know he loved you so much. He talked about every day, he couldn’t wait to come home to you,” Steve remembered, choking up noticeably. “But he won’t. He’s gone.”

“You don’t understand, I know, okay? I know.”

“You’re in shock, I understand, it’s hard to lose your mate—”

“You’re a beta, you wouldn’t understand,” you dismissed; sure, he looked like an alpha now, but it didn’t make a difference. “Omegas, we know when our Alpha dies, we feel it, it kills us. He’s far away, but he’s still there, I still feel him!”

Steve held you as you sobbed, your body crumpling into his arms. Sometimes you thought maybe he held you too tight on accident because he was still getting used to his new strength; other times you thought he did it on purpose.

February 3rd, 1944, 12:00 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“Even when I had nothing, I had Steve,” you recalled shakily, “and now he’s gone too.”

“Is that why you’re volunteering?” Agent Carter asked you. “Because you’d rather sleep for a hundred years than live without your mate and your best friend?”

“I’m volunteering because my mate and my best friend died for SHIELD,” you corrected firmly, “and if I’m not willing to also, then I’m admitting I think they went to waste.”

“Steve told me you didn’t think Bucky was dead,” Peggy remembered.

You winced. “I’m not sure. But I know he’s not coming home again. I came here to give whatever I could to help find him… I was asked to participate in a cryogenics research study. If it helps him, then I’ll do it.”

She was about to get up, apparently satisfied with your final interview, but you stopped her.

“On one condition,” you added. “If James Barnes is found, alive or dead, wake me up to see him.”

She nodded, stepping out of the room and leaving you alone again.

May 8th, 2012, SHIELD headquarters

“Can you hear me?”

You slowly blinked awake, your vision taking a moment to catch up with your mind. You saw tubes coming out of your arms; you saw Steve above you, looking like the day you saw him last.

“Did you find Bucky?” you asked instantly. Why else would they wake you up?

“No,” Steve answered, seemingly a bit disappointed that that was your first and only question.

“Then put me back to sleep,” you demanded.

“It’s been 68 years,” he told you. “You’ve slept for 68 years. It’s time to wake up.”

And you did, more than you ever wanted to, because you realized you couldn’t feel him anymore. Your Alpha was gone. Worse, he probably died while you were asleep; he probably died alone.

One more time, like he had 68 years ago, Steve held you while you sobbed.

August 1st, 2014, 2:11 a.m., Avengers compound, Steve Rogers’ quarters

You ran into Steve’s room barefoot and still in your pajamas, barreling through the door and right into his bed.

“Steve, I feel him!” you rushed.

“What?” he groaned sleepily, looking up at you as he blinked in confusion.

“I feel him again, he’s alive,” you explained. “I know it. He’s weak… he’s hurting… but he’s there.”

“That’s impossible,” Steve shook his head. “It’s been too long, he would’ve died of old age anyways.”

“Don’t you want to believe it? Don’t you want to think he’s out there?”

“Do I want to think he’s alone and I didn’t save him?” Steve hissed. “No, I can’t say that I particularly do!”

“But we still can, Steve, we just have to find h—”

But before you could finish, the feeling left you, and you were just half of something again.

“Oh,” you breathed.

“He’s gone again?” Steve realized.

You nodded, biting your lip as it started to quiver. He sighed and pulled you into a hug. “If I could just see his body, and know it was over,” you whispered, “if I could just bury him, have a funeral…”

“We’ll have one,” Steve decided, “after this mission. We’ll put him to rest. He deserves that, and so do you.”

You nodded into his shoulder. It shattered you into a million pieces but it was still the better option, to try to let him go in whatever small way you could. He would always, always, always be your Alpha, nothing could change that, but a funeral would at least bring some closure.

That would have to wait until after your next mission though… and it was going to be a big one: tracking the elusive Winter Soldier.

August 3rd, 2014, 1:14 p.m., Lower East side

You were a few blocks away, helping civilians escape the firefight, when you felt it.

For one impossibly brief moment, you felt him, stronger than you had in nearly 80 years. He was here.

You instantly got up and ran like you’d never run before, finding the Soldier and Steve locked in a brutal showdown— but his mask was gone now, and you nearly fell to your knees at the sight of him.

“Bucky!” you yelped, but you knew he wasn’t there or you would’ve felt his presence. Your Alpha was somewhere underneath the shell that wore his face, and you needed to find him.

You ran forward just as Steve made a break for it, getting to him just in time to stand between the Soldier and his mission.

“Alpha, please,” you whimpered, clutching at his chest. A metal hand backhanded you to the ground.

“Out of my way, Omega,” he growled, stepping over you, but you grabbed at his ankles even when he tried to kick you away.

“My mark,” you explained hastily, pulling your shirt down some to make sure it was visible. “It’s yours. Do you remember? You gave me this. This is your mark on me.”

He stared down at you, seeming to be contemplating it, and you scrambled back to your feet and faced him.

“I still feel you,” you whispered. “I knew you were alive, I knew you’d come back to me. I could feel you, right here,” you explained as you took his hand and placed it on your chest. “Could you feel me? Did you know I was waiting for you all this time?”

His eyes were watering but he still seemed confused— stunned, more specifically, as you placed your hand on his chest.

“I’ll always be yours, Bucky. I’ll always be your Omega, no matter where you are.”

A stun gun took you down, an array of masked men appeared, and before he could really see you for what you were, he was dragged away and taken to be erased again.

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., Avengers compound, medical bay

“I can’t believe we let them get away,” Steve lamented, resting his face in his hands. “I can’t believe they took him again…”

“They’ll be back,” you promised sternly. “They’re going to figure out what I am to him. They’re going to realize I could break his programming. And they’re going to come for me.”

“And when they do?” Steve pressed.

“We’ll be ready. And I’ll get my Alpha back.”

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., temporary HYDRA operations facility

"The woman on the bridge... the Omega..." Bucky mumbled. "She knew me... she had my mark."

"No she didn't."

He furrowed his brow. "She showed me..."

Pierce sighed, glancing over to the HYDRA scientist who looked back at him sternly.

"She's too dangerous to be left alive," the man sighed, shrugging in his lab coat. "We can't deprogram a bond like that."

"We'll take care of her," Pierce promised.

Bucky launched from the chair, snapping his restraints like paper. "Touch her and I'll fucking kill you!" he bellowed, tackling his handler to the ground.

Pierce just laughed as another scientist jabbed Bucky with a needle, dosing him with something strong enough to kill any other man but just enough to knock out a super soldier. Pierce stood up and dusted himself off as he watched Bucky go limp and be lifted back into his chair.

"I can see the fight in your eyes, Soldier," he taunted as he leaned into his face. "I know you really would kill me, if you could. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, right? But don't worry about your mate, we'll make it quick and painless. Hey, maybe beforehand me and a few of the other Alphas will show her a good time, poor thing's been without her mate for 70 years... I bet she's raring to go."

Bucky's arm twitched as his eyes started to fall shut, a tear falling down his blank and motionless face.

"Wipe him," Pierce instructed to the scientist, turning and walking away as the electric whirr of the machine charging up filled the room.

August 11th, 2014, 3:53 p.m., SHIELD headquarters

Steve was impressed with how accurate and imminent your prediction was; HYDRA was hot on your trail and desperate to eliminate the biggest threat to their Asset. Knowing they were coming made it easier, but it was still a brutal fight.

You and Steve tried to stay together, but they were smart, they used the perfect bait to lure you away.

"Tell me where he is," you demanded from the HYDRA agent as you held a blade to his neck, "then I'll kill you."

"Isn't it supposed to be 'or I'll kill you'?" he frowned.

You shook your head. "Not the way I operate."

Opposite to the reaction you were expecting, he grinned widely. "He's here."

Your heart stopped.

"On the roof. He's here to kill you."

You dropped the knife and ran straight for the stairwell, ascending them like they were nothing and calling out for your Alpha.

You found him there, waiting, gun trained on you. Raising your hands in surrender, you yelled to him again.

"Bucky," you called across the windy roof, eyes nearly blinded by the bright afternoon sun. "Alpha."

"I'm not who you think I am," he yelled back. "I'm not your Alpha."

It hurt to hear it in his voice, but you knew it wasn't him. Cautiously, you stepped closer. "Before you left, you told me you didn't want to mark me and leave me behind," you recalled. "But I wanted it. I wanted to be bonded to you more than I'd ever wanted anything."

He could clearly see you were coming closer, he even tightened his finger over the trigger of his weapon, but he was waiting. You kept walking to him, slowly.

"I've never regretted it," you continued, "not even when I thought you were dead, not even when I had to spent a lifetime-- more than that-- apart from you."

Finally you were face to face, and you stepped closer until his gun was pressed right into your chest.

"You can shoot me now and I still won't regret it," you promised. "I love you."

Shakily, he lowered his weapon. "Omega..." he breathed.

"Your Omega."

He pulled you into him and you sobbed as you felt him come to life in your arms-- the real him, your Alpha, your Bucky. He held you close and breathed against the top of your head and it was like a dream coming true decades after you'd forced yourself to let it go.

But you'd never given up. And now you had found him again.

Agents started to come onto the roof and Bucky spun the two of you around, firing with his right hand and using the left, metal arm as a shield for you.

He carried you and you didn't even know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In his arms, you were home.

August 12th, 1:03 a.m., Avengers compound, your quarters

You hadn't stopped coming or crying for at least an hour. Bucky had all but split you open on his knot all night and he didn't show any signs of stopping.

He apparently intended to make up for lost time. And you'd lost a lot of time.

"Just one more, I know you can give me one more," he groaned furiously rubbing your clit as his knot began to swell again.

You could give him anything, as long as he asked for it like that.

You'd lost count of how many times he'd told you to come for him, and how many times you did it immediately.

"I can see how full you are," he whispered as he rubbed your stomach gently. "So much seed in you that your body can't hold it all."

You looked down and yep, you were distinctly bloated from his come alone; it made you a little dizzy to even look at it.

"The idea of you alone during your heats, no one to protect you, it kills me," he explained with a growl. "I won't let you go again. I can't."

"Then don't," you sighed. "Never leave this bed, fill me with everything you have."

"Did anybody ever help you through them? The heats?" he asked. "I wouldn't blame you, they can be so painful... I just need to know so I can make sure you forget about them."

"No, Bucky, never— I never let anyone touch me."

"Steve could've helped you, at least some..."

"He wouldn't have, he loves you too much. And I wouldn't accept anything less than you, ever. You're my Alpha. We're bonded. There's never anyone else."

That didn't seem to satisfy him, his eyes darting away as he swallowed. Your gut sank with the realization he probably wasn't being totally honest about why he asked.

"Your ruts," you gasped. "Were you alone for all of them?"

He shut his lips tighter.

"Bucky, it's okay, just tell me. I was asleep for 70 years, I skipped most of them, but you... you had to live through them all."

"They gave me betas, and omegas," he mumbled, "but I don't... I don't really remember. I know they wanted me to. They threatened to hurt me if I didn't, because they knew I'd go crazy after so many ruts alone, but I can't remember if I really did it. I remember... I remember crying, and begging for you."

"Alpha," you breathed as you felt new tears run over the stains of your old ones. "It's okay. Whatever happened, it's okay now. We're together again. Everything's okay."

You wiped his tear away with your thumb, holding his face tightly, weaving your fingers into his long hair.

"I'll always be your Omega," you promised.

He leaned in closer to you, kissing your cheek before pulling back a little. "It's faded," he whispered as he ran his thumb over the mark on your neck. "The last time I saw it, it was still fresh."

"It's older, sure, but it's stronger than ever, Bucky."

August 14th, 10:12 a.m., Avengers compound, residential area kitchen

Steve's eyes went wide when he came into the kitchen for breakfast and found you there, steeping your tea. "Surprised to see you out of the love nest so soon," he smirked.

"It's been three days, I don't think that counts as soon," you scoffed.

"It does to him," Steve frowned. "He's asleep, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"I know he wouldn't let you out of his sights if he was conscious," Steve chuckled.

At that moment, you heard Bucky call your name and run out into the hall, only a bedsheet covering his groin as he appeared in the doorway. You spun around and smiled when you saw him come running towards you, embracing you with his free arm.

"You should've told me you were leaving, I got scared when I woke up without you," he admitted weakly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry!"

He pulled back and clutched your face in both his hands. "I'm waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life, you understand?"

You nodded dutifully. "Yes, Alpha."

"One hand on the sheet, please, Buck?" Steve winced, looking away.

“Whoops,” Bucky groaned, reaching to cover himself as you laughed softly.

“Let’s go back to bed, baby,” you decided quietly, taking Bucky’s (free) hand in yours and waving goodbye to Steve, who was already making his way as far out of earshot as possible.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Apologies

ShinoMitsu Week 2021 Day One: (Music, Seasons, Apologies) Honestly kind of seasons too a little bit.

A/N: WARNING: MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD. Writings without spoilers will begin on day four, come back then! This is probably the saddest thing I’ve ever written. Of course being me though, there is some comfort along with the hurt and a hopeful ending that will be pursued throughout the week. Hope you guys like it! Word Count: 4,280

Seriously, some major manga spoilers. Stop reading if you care! I’d hate to ruin someone’s day.

Shinobu rubbed her eyes against the harsh flash of light, blinking as the light faded into a much more manageable brightness reminiscent to that of a fair weathered day. She put a hand to her chest and took a deep breath, appreciating how easily the air rushed into her lungs without obstruction.

It was over, she had done it. With the help of Kanao and Inosuke, that demon would never eat another woman again. Shinobu was fine with being the bastard’s last meal since he had ended up choking on her in the end. Months of preparation had let up to this moment and she was grateful it hadn’t all been for nothing.

She had taken her time, ignoring the pull on her very soul. She wanted to make sure that the Demon Moon’s demise was certain. Now that he was gone, Shinobu found herself in a field of tall, green grass and wildflowers. Sakura trees were scattered around her in full bloom. Her demon slayer uniform had been replaced by an autumnal kimono that fit snugly over her body. The pattern was certainly a stark contrast to her surroundings, but she hardly minded.

The most prominent thoughts in Shinobu’s mind at the moment were related to why she was here, what was here? She felt like she was waiting for someone in this field. Her heart was heavy and her lungs felt tight. Rather than linger, she assumed it was some phantom pain left over from her final battle. She decided that she would walk to keep her mind off of it.

Each step seemed to make the very ground vibrate with energy that Shinobu could feel crawl up her skin in warm waves. She kept going and as she traveled, the scenery shifted around her.

She watched with parted lips as memories manifested around her, fading back behind her as she walked past, creating new ones beside her. If she stepped back, the older memories would rejuvenate and replay for her but she didn’t dwell long. She didn’t need any reminders of the life she left behind, she had squared away all of her business weeks ago while her body grew steadily more toxic. She had done what any person who knew they were going to die would do and took care to make sure she could pass on with no regrets.

Shinobu paused in front of one memory as muffled laughter caught her attention. It was a mundane memory of cooking with her pupils, joined by the Kamados and company. Something that they had done together several times. The smile that tugged at Shinobu’s lips was bittersweet. Yes, she had no regrets, but there was certainly a feeling of longing that she would have to learn to accept as a part of herself for however long she’d linger here.

Shinobu carried on as memories bad, pleasant and mundane came and went with no rhyme or reason to the order of their appearance. At some point she had allowed her mind to wander and the already muffled sounds devolved into white noise.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected from the afterlife, but it certainly wasn’t this. How long had she been here? Was she really expected to watch eighteen years worth of snippets from her own life? She had already lived it, it was short and painful but admittedly there was light in it too.

“Shinobu!”

She froze.

“Shinobu, doesn’t it look good? I can’t wait to try it, we did such a good job!”

“It does smell nice, doesn’t it?” Shinobu heard herself say.

She slowly turned towards the memory, she couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted to. Gods, she could never give up an opportunity to see that girl again, even if it was all in her mind.

There was Mitsuri in all her glory. The memory was of one of their baking adventures with some western recipe Mitsuri had learned.

Shinobu smiled wistfully, watching herself wipe flour from Mitsuri’s flushed cheeks before walking on, allowing the memory to dissipate.

Not long after the crack of a wooden sword snapped up her attention.

“Why are you making yourself weaker?”

Ah, Shinobu remembered that day all too well. Mitsuri had been neglecting herself and Obanai had asked Shinobu to check up on her. It was hard to see someone gifted with such strength try to throw it all away. She was glad she had been able to help Mitsuri grow to be more comfortable in her own skin and in a way, she helped Shinobu do the same.

Another step, another memory. This one stung a bit actually. She and Mitsuri had been walking through the estate gardens together while the taller girl shared her woes about not finding a man stronger than her to sweep her off her feet and marry her.

“You’re so pretty and mature, Shinobu. I bet you could get a husband—” Mitsuri snapped her fingers, “—like that! Have you ever thought about it, Shinobu?”

“Marriage is something I’ve never given much thought to.” Shinobu had said, focusing her attention on a small, white butterfly floating through the breeze.

“Really? No man has ever made your heart race before? Usually when I meet someone I like, I can’t help but picture what the wedding would be like.” Mitsuri gushed.

“Oh? Have you ever pictured one for us? You like me best, don’t you?” Shinobu teased.

Mitsuri froze for a beat before her skin lit up and her arms started flailing. Her words were tumbling over each other making them unintelligible. Shinobu managed a laugh, allowing the conversation to be pushed elsewhere. The far off look in her eyes seemingly going unnoticed by her companion.

Yes, Shinobu hadn’t put much thought into marriage. She had never really seen the appeal of the men her sister, and then Mitsuri, had occasionally gushed over, but the idea of finding someone you would want to spend the rest of your life with did sound nice.

“That was never an option,” Shinobu sighed to herself, “not for me. I hope you find someone who will treat you right when the fight is won, Mitsuri.”

She continued on, walking a bit faster. She hoped the end would come soon because the novelty of this little trip down memory lane had run dry long ago.

More memories manifested and dissolved only fast enough for Shinobu to see snippets. Kanae and herself moving Himejima-san’s boulder, taking in Kanao and the other girls, feeding her fish with Nezuko, training Tanjirou, Zenitsu and Inosuke, teasing Tomioka, cultivating poison with Tamayo, a moment with her mother and father, telling Kanao about her plan that would ultimately take her life.

It was exhausting. Shinobu just wanted to be done. She did not see reason to dwell on her life. She had no regrets. She had no unfinished business. She just wanted to move on already.

“Ah!”

Shinobu stumbled backwards as a fog grew before her, blocking her path. Before now, the visions had only ran parallel to her. The cloud swirled with light painted edges, glowing faintly until the memory surfaced. It couldn’t have been more than a week before and Shinobu’s throat felt dry as she watched herself choke back another dose of powdered wisteria seeds.

The petals would have been a relatively harmless alternative, but the toxic seeds promised a stronger reaction and she could gain more potency from one seed than hundreds of petals worth of tea. Shinobu had been careful with her dosing, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel it’s affects on her body.

The image of Shinobu coughed, swallowing water in an attempt to soothe her burning mouth. She groaned softly, sitting back in her chair and gingerly cupping a hand over her stomach. She closed her eyes only for them to snap open at the sound of knocking at her office door.

“Shinobu, are you working hard in there? Can I come in?” Mitsuri had called from the other side.

Shinobu winced as she sat up, wiping sweat from her forehead. She took a deep breath and it scratched her throat unpleasantly but nonetheless, she fixed a smile on her face and called Mitsuri in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I saw, uh, Tamayo-san, was it? I was her and her assistant retiring for the day and I thought I’d get the chance to see you then.” Mitsuri said.

“You aren’t interrupting anything, I’m glad to see you,” Shinobu motioned for Mitsuri to make herself at home and she did so with a happy hum, sitting on top of the lab table Shinobu was sitting at. “Can I do something for you?”

“Well, there was one thing,” Mitsuri began sheepishly, lightly swinging her legs as she presented her hand to Shinobu knuckles up, “I grazed my hand during a round of Hashira training and I know I could patch it up myself, but you always do it better.”

Shinobu gingerly brought Mitsuri’s hand to her face to examine the superficial damage and nodded, “I can take care of this. One moment please.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Shinobu stood, hiding her pained expression by turning her head towards the medicine cabinet she kept in her office. She walked over to it, taking an antibacterial spray and some thin bandages before turning back towards Mitsuri, watching her with those bright pastel green eyes that reminded Shinobu of spring.

She stood before Mitsuri scooping up the damaged hand once more.

“This may sting a bit.” Shinobu warned quietly before spraying Mitsuri’s knuckles.

The older girl closed her eyes, the burning, prickly feeling causing her to whine. Shinobu chuckled good-naturedly bringing the hand closer to her face almost close enough to touch her lips. She blew a gentle, cooling breath of air over the knuckles.

“Does that feel better?” She asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Mitsuri blushed, looking down, “I’m sorry, that was childish of me.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Shinobu said seriously.

She finished wrapping Mitsuri’s hand and held it between her own. Shinobu looked up, a tired smile on her face.

“All done.”

“Shinobu, you look so tired. Are you well?” Mitsuri asked, looking concerned.

“I’m fine. The research I’m doing with Tamayo-san is just very involved and intricate.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help,” Mitsuri frowned.

“It refreshes me just to see you.” Shinobu had said without thinking. “Your vibrance warms me like the sun.”

“Really?” Mitsuri squeaked, her hands cupping her own cheeks as they bloomed pink.

Shinobu felt her own skin prickle as blood buzzed through her ears. She held firm though, even if she hadn’t planned to say something so... poetic, she did mean it. In fact, she had more she’d like to say. Ever since she had began her doses, she had become more and more aware of her mortality. The final fight was fast approaching.

“Really.” She replied simply.

“Aw, Shinobu!” Mitsuri launched herself into Shinobu’s arms, making Shinobu have to take several quick steps backwards to keep them both upright. “You’re making my heart go, ‘bwahh woo!’”

“Is that a good thing?” Shinobu giggled.

“Very!” Mitsuri nodded vigorously.

Mitsuri held Shinobu for a few minutes, humming and swaying. She really was like the sun. Shinobu could fall asleep standing up if it was in Mitsuri’s warm embrace.

Unexpectedly, Shinobu was lifted over Mitsuri’s shoulder causing her to release a surprised gasp. The position was uncomfortable for her stomach but it hardly registered in comparison to being carried by the taller girl.

“Mitsuri, what are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed. You’re so tired you almost fell asleep just then.”Mitsuri cooed.

“I can walk...”

“Let me be your legs for a little bit. It’s me paying you back for always helping me.”

Whatever methods Shinobu tried to use to coax Mitsuri to put her down proved futile. She simply strode through the halls humming and waving at any passerby she happened to see. Shinobu was embarrassed, but couldn’t bring herself to be angry. Not when Mitsuri was so genuinely happy.

Before long, they made it to Shinobu’s room. Mitsuri put her down and helped her get ready for bed. There was a part of Shinobu that disliked the treatment. It made her feel small and weak. There was another part of her however, that was desperate to keep Mitsuri close and if the older Hashira wanted to help her pick her sleep ware and brush her hair she would take it.

Before Mitsuri left, she even went as far as to tuck Shinobu in, stopping with her face close enough to Shinobu’s that she feared the Love Pillar could find every insecurity she ever held in her eyes. Mitsuri tucked back a swatch of Shinobu’s hair.

“Shinobu... sleep well, okay?” Mitsuri said after a moment.

“I will, thank you for bringing me here.” Shinobu nodded, her eyelids already drooping.

“Whenever you need.” Mitsuri smiled.

Before Mitsuri could leave Shinobu felt compelled to speak, to share that part of herself that she had been keeping from her friend.

“Mitsuri...” Shinobu paused, her throat clenched and sweat recollected on her brow. She was suddenly frightened.

“Yes?”

“... be safe.” Shinobu said instead, her heart ached at the sweet smile Mitsuri flashed her.

“I will. See you soon Shinobu.”

Then she left and the room was bathed in darkness.

Shinobu clutched at her kimono and fell to the otherworldly grass beneath her. Shinobu didn’t have any regrets. She refused to. What was the point of looking back on things she had no power to change? She didn’t want to be here anymore and the white noise of the memories around her only seemed to grow louder and louder until she couldn’t bottle it anymore and clutched her head tightly between her hands and screamed,

“Shut up!”

The sound dissipated.

“Enough!” Shinobu breathed raggedly.

Whatever sounds remained were carried off like whispers on the wind as if spooked by the Hashira’s sharp tone. Shinobu stayed glued to the ground, her hands migrating from her ears to cover her eyes instead as she tried to reign in her emotions. Why, she wasn’t sure. There wasn’t much reason to keep her feelings under wraps anymore, but one simply doesn’t swallow down their boiling blood for years and then stop, even in death apparently.

She fell onto her back, stretching out as best she could in the kimono she was wearing. She noticed for the first time that the sky was blank, just empty, uniform white that looked cold despite its brightness. It hardly matched rich greens of the tall grasses or the colorful wildflowers, the vibrant pink blossoms that fell from the trees.

After laying back for so long, Shinobu was beginning to think that this was it. She was destined to be stuck here forever. She sighed, there could be worse places. She felt a shiver roll through her body as the air changed suddenly, but she simply rolled to her side.

“...?”

Shinobu blinked, sitting up on her elbows to peer through the tall brush curiously. She thought she had heard something, but it sounded far off whatever it was. She shook her head and laid back down. It was probably just some remnants of her memories.

“...!”

Still indistinguishable, but louder. Shinobu’s brows creased and she forced herself to stand, looking for the source in earnest now.

A ways off, she thought she could see a figure in the sakura tree grove. She rubbed at her eyes. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. No one else could possibly be here. Why would there be? Whatever it was, it seemed to turn in Shinobu’s direction and noticed her as well. Much like Shinobu, the entity didn’t seem to know what to think of her but appeared to be cautiously making its way towards her.

Shinobu decided to move forward as well to meet them halfway. She was already dead, what was the worst that could happen? As she got closer it became glaringly obvious who the figure was supposed to be. Even though she was still a ways off, Shinobu would recognize that watermelon toned hair anywhere.

Shinobu stopped moving. Trying to process what this meant. Some other way to torment her perhaps? When she had first arrived, she felt like she was waiting for someone and that feeling was slowly dwindling down the closer they got. It was a feeling that chilled Shinobu’s blood.

The figure must have noticed she had stopped moving because now they appeared to be running, running as best as they could in the flowery kimono they were sporting.

Shinobu felt an urge to run in the opposite direction but her feet stood frozen to the ground as the person got closer and closer until Shinobu could hear her yell,

“Shinobu! Oh my gods, Shinobu!”

Shinobu stared wide-eyed watching Mitsuri run up to her with tears glistening in her eyes, her cheeks wet and flushed from the excursion. Mitsuri was a beautiful vision Shinobu couldn’t take her eyes away from and then, Mitsuri tripped and fell to the ground with an audible, ‘oomph!’, disappearing into the tall grass.

Slowly, Shinobu’s brain started working again and her feet moved on their own accord until she was kneeling beside the other girl. Her hands hovered just above her, afraid to touch.

Mitsuri had no qualms about it however, and made quick work sitting up on her knees to embrace Shinobu tightly while tears continued to smear down her cheeks.

Slowly, Shinobu hugged back. She couldn’t help herself. Even if this was just some hallucination, she felt compelled to comfort her.

“Shinobu, I was so sad! I heard a crow report your death while I was fighting. I thought I’d never see you again and I felt really terrible.” Mitsuri cried, clutching tightly to Shinobu’s kimono. Afraid that if she let go, the younger girl would disappear.

What happened? What was this? Shinobu couldn’t understand. She shook her head, Mitsuri couldn’t truly be here. She was going to live on because she was strong. She was going to find love and get married like she always wanted. She wasn’t supposed to be here with her.

“You weren’t supposed to die.” Shinobu said aloud, her voice wavered slightly.

“And you were?” Mitsuri sniffled, another tear rolling over her cheek. “What happened Shinobu?”

“I... I faced the demon who killed my sister. He devoured me, but at a price. Kanao and Inosuke finished him off.”

“At a price, what do you mean Shinobu?”

Shinobu turned her head away, “I had been dosing my body with poison for months before the battle. It was the best way to assure my victory in the end.”

“You were planning that all this time. I knew something wasn’t right but I didn’t even try find out what was wrong,” Mitsuri wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“I hope you aren’t blaming yourself, I wouldn’t have told you even if you asked what I was up to. You had your own demons to fight.”

“But I wanted to be there for you! I remember how tired you looked the last time I got to see you. I thought we had more time, but then... Oyakata-sama and the explosion. I thought we had more time.” Mitsuri repeated through shaky breaths.

“Mitsuri...” Shinobu frowned. She had convinced herself years ago that she was on borrowed time, but Mitsuri had never seen it like that. Had it been cruel of her not to share her intentions?

“There was so much I wanted to do with you, so much I wanted to say that I didn’t even realize until I knew you were gone,” Mitsuri loudly sniffled again and Shinobu frowned into her shoulder, “I didn’t have time to mourn you properly, I had to keep fighting for everyone. I had to help fight Kibutsuji with everything I had so no one we lost died in vain.”

“You fought against Kibutsuji?” Shinobu asked, feeling a mixture of awe with a sting of, what, envy for making it that far? Sympathy for having to forge forward as comrades fell around her?

“I, uh, ripped his arms off actually.” Mitsuri exhaled a weak laugh at Shinobu’s expression. “It wasn’t enough, obviously, but after that it was... pretty much over for me.” Mitsuri sat back a bit, one hand over her chest while the other cupped her head. The wounds she sustained were gone, but their effects were still faintly felt.

Shinobu gently took hold of the hand Mitsuri held to her head, placing it on her lap with a comforting squeeze.

“You gave your all. You should be proud of yourself, I know I am.”

“Thank you,” Mitsuri wiped her eyes with her free hand. “We did it Shinobu, I was kind of already out of it by then, but Iguro-san told me we won, that Kibutsuji was defeated.”

“That’s... that’s really wonderful to hear. That’s honesty incredible news.” Shinobu smiled warmly whilst tears stung the corners of her eyes.

“I wish we could have seen it together, Shinobu. The world without demons.” Mitsuri kept a brave smile, but it was a watery one. She pulled her hand tentatively back up to her tear stained face, still holding Shinobu’s hand so it was cupped between her own hand and cheek, “I wish we could have done a lot of things together.” She confessed in a cracked whisper.

“Mitsuri?” Shinobu searched her face, trying to understand, but if the tightness in her chest was anything to go by, she already did.

“Shinobu, I love you! I love you a lot and I’m so upset that I didn’t tell you before. I’m so sorry!”

Shinobu simpered and brushed her captive thumb across Mitsuri’s cheek.

“You actually told me quite often how fond you were of me. You needn’t apologize, I always knew you looked upon me favorably.” Shinobu comforted. Mitsuri shook her head.

“I’m in love with you!” Mitsuri spoke with conviction, her pastel green eyes sprung fresh tears like a spring shower.

Shinobu’s lips parted in surprise.

“I wanted to tell you, really tell you, but I was so scared you wouldn’t like me at all anymore if I told you. I thought, the more time we spent together, maybe I’d find the courage to tell you... Oh, Shinobu,” Mitsuri reached her sleeve out to the other girl and gently wiped her face. Shinobu hadn’t realized she was crying.

Once she fully registered it, it was like a damn had burst.

As Shinobu’s breathing become more labored, erratic, Mitsuri pulled her to her chest and Shinobu clung tightly to her kimono. Years worth of anger and pain came in the form of hot tears. She couldn’t help but think of Kanae in her final moments, telling her to find love, to grow old and have a happy life. Even if she had tried to do what her sister had asked of her, it was always meant to end in tragedy.

“I love you too, so much. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to tell you.”

“If I don’t need to apologize, then you shouldn’t either. It’s alright, it probably would have hurt more, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, it still hurts pretty damn bad.” Shinobu replied with a shuddering laugh and Mitsuri gave a weak giggle of her own.

They sat quietly for awhile in each other’s embrace, letting the rustling of the grass fill the silence between them. They could feel it, something was pulling at them, exhausting them as they tried to hold onto each other as long as possible. Whatever this supernatural intervention was, it seemed to be coming to an end. Mitsuri spoke up again, sounding quite fatigued as she ran her hand through Shinobu’s hair.

“Shinobu, if we were reborn again in the world without demons, could we try being together the way we only dreamed to be?”

“Of course, I’d love nothing more.” Shinobu whispered, reaching up to cradle Mitsuri’s face once more. Her arms felt heavy like lead.

Mitsuri hadn’t the strength to keep herself upright and slowly sunk in the direction of Shinobu’s body until their foreheads met. Shinobu, unable to keep them both up, fell to her back with Mitsuri flat on top of her.

“I’m really tired,” Mitsuri’s eyes drooped. She snuggled her nose into Shinobu’s neck.

“Yes, it won’t be long now.” Shinobu wasn’t really sure what it was, but it felt familiar.

“Shinobu, could I give you a kiss before I go to sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

With a grunt of effort, Mitsuri rose herself up slightly on wobbly elbows and bumped noses with Shinobu who was fighting to keep her eyes open. With perhaps a bit more force than intended, Mitsuri’s lips met Shinobu’s.

The kiss was ever so soft and a tad salty. It was rather short, but filled with loving intent. Mitsuri’s arms gave out and she came back down over Shinobu with a light grunt, her forehead bumped against Shinobu’s cheek. With a bit of effort, Shinobu turned her head, resting another kiss over Mitsuri’s hair, the other girl could hardly make a sound but Shinobu could tell she was pleased with the small affection.

It could have been a trick of her blurred vision, but Shinobu swore the once blank sky was now bathed in blue, a large, bright sun shining over them.

Shinobu smiled and allowed her eyes to finally fall completely shut, confident that she and Mitsuri would find each other again and enjoy the product of their hard work and sacrifice in another life.

[thevioletjones]

48. “You make me want things I can’t have.” 💜

Thanks for the inspiration! 💜

Prompt 3

Buffer

Ian Gallagher was starting to become a problem.

And the worst part about it was that he wasn’t even a problem that Mickey wanted to resolve. No. He just kept holding Ian closer and refusing to push him away like he should. He was just letting him ruin Mickey’s mediocre life. Because something about Ian was unshakeable. It wasn’t just that Ian kept coming back no matter what Mickey ever said or did, either. Ian was definitely persistent, but Mickey had formed an attachment too, even though he did everything in his power to hide it. It was still there, buried under layers of caustic remarks, aloof expressions, and occasional lashing out. He wasn’t proud of his behavior, but it was just who he was, and remaining unchanged in his ways was easier than the alternative.

Ian was definitely too good for him. Sure, he was hood trash too, but they were on two different levels. Ian was buffed up with a certain surface shine that Mickey lacked. Although, he would admit he’d come a long way in his style and hygiene game since his early days as an unwashed miscreant. Mickey was a gay man after all, and not immune to gaying certain things up, despite his tendency to flout homo conventions. If he wanted the ability to get a decent dick in his ass, there were standards that he’d learned to push himself to meet. This was the glossiest Mickey was ever gonna get, and it still came with a pinch of grime and hostility.

Maybe he’d developed enough sense to give a fuck, but he still didn’t give two shits either; a concept that walking contradictions the world over could likely comprehend.

The thing about Gallagher was that he was sweet. Not in an annoying, cloying, obvious way that was anathema to everything Mickey was about, but in a low-key, casual, incidental kind of way that somehow managed to be attractive, even to someone with Mickey’s abrasive nature. Ian played tough, and he genuinely was in many ways, but he had a gooey, marshmallow center that evened him out. Mickey didn’t see himself as having that sort of balance.

But there were these unsettling moments like this, usually in the middle of the night or early in the morning, when Mickey would catch himself watching Ian unawares. Unawares because he only ever did it when the redhead was deep in sleep. Suddenly, Mickey would be Mr. Contemplation, burning a hole into the face of the dude he was banging, daring to wonder what could happen between them if he wasn’t an emotionally stunted asshole. And then he’d reflect on what Ian’s life was like whenever he wasn’t around; the things Mickey acted like he didn’t care to know.

These circular thought patterns never led anywhere good, because at the end of the day, Ian wasn’t his. And Mickey could never be Ian’s. He’d long ago resigned himself to a certain destiny that involved long-term solitude until his dying day, which he’d always been fairly certain would come prematurely and most likely in violent fashion. It would be ridiculous to drag someone else into his vortex of apathy for life and the general traditions of living it. Especially someone like Ian, who was good; who helped people because he genuinely cared about, like, the well-being of humanity and shit. Despite the occasional soft look or revelatory comment that Ian would throw his way, he knew better than to think he’d want to be saddled with Mickey’s non-reciprocating ogre-y ass.

Usually when one of these intense, one-sided staring sessions would take place, Mickey would overcompensate for silently slipping by adding an extra dose of rudeness when he kicked Ian out after the fact. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why Gallagher still bothered with him. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get laid elsewhere. Ian was the type that would never have trouble finding a willing ass. Yet somehow he kept coming back to Mickey and ignoring all the negatives thrown in his path. It didn’t make much sense on either of their parts… allowing each other in on any terms. Probably meant that Ian was just as fucked up as he was, really.

Blowing out the last hit off his smoke, Mickey glanced at the bedside clock and stubbed out the cigarette butt. 3:26 AM and he was wide awake, just gawking at his slumbering ginger fuck buddy, and trying to repress the multitude of emotions swirling within him. It was truly pathetic.

He could just get the hell up and drag his ass to the living room to play video games or watch late-night TV, but no. Apparently he liked suffering and feeling conflicted. What a pussy.

Not ten minutes went by before there was slow movement from the other side of the bed... Ian turning over in his sleep, reaching an arm out, and searching. Searching for the warmth of Mickey’s body, it would seem.

A big hand landed on his thigh, rubbing it softly as tired eyes blinked open, and a groggy voice sounded, “What’re’y’doin’?”

Oh, just fuckin’ lying here starin’ at your pasty ass for some reason. “Can’t sleep.”

“Didn’t wear you out?” Ian asked with a breathy titter, squeezing the sensitive flesh precariously close to Mickey’s groin.

Maybe it made his dick twitch a little.

“When did one round ever wear me out?”

“Pretty sure there were two rounds. Did you forget about the couch?”

“Random handies while watchin’ mediocre porn barely counts as a round, carrot-top.”

“A, it wasn’t that mediocre, and B, do you only consider it sex if penetration is involved?”

“I mean… it helps.”

“What about blowjobs, then? How would you classify them?”

“Sex act, but not sex, sex. Know what I mean?”

Ian laughed. “Not really. What about lesbians?”

“Definitely don’t wanna have my cock anywhere near those.”

“Har har. I mean, what would you call lesbian sex?”

“Gross? Boring? I don’t fuckin’ know. Never had it, don’t plan to.”

Ian laughed harder and it made Mickey feel good. “Pretty sure lesbians don’t want fuck all to do with you either, bottom boy.”

“Hey, likin’ what I like don’t make me a bitch.”

“No, but you seem pretty hostile toward anything but a real live human cock poking you in the asshole. I mean, naysaying getting your dick sucked? That’s a bold bossy bottom stance to take.”

“What can I say? I’m a simple man with simple kinks. Aren’t you glad I don’t need any freaky extra shit to get me off?”

“What kinda freaky extras are we talkin’?”

“Fuck off, Gallagher. Don’t act like you don’t just live for stickin’ that big red dick inside any tight manhole that’ll accommodate it. Does that make you a hungry top just begging for it?”

“I prefer ‘brutal top,’ since it’s so big, as you were so kind to mention.”

Mickey rolled his eyes into tomorrow. “Gotta remember to stop accidentally complimenting it. You get so fuckin’ uppity about it.”

Ian rolled over and boxed him in, nuzzling around his face and neck, while Mickey tried to bat him away.

“Come on,” prodded Ian. “Big hard cock seeks tight little hole for another round of deep penetration.”

Mickey could feel said big hard cock firming right up against his hip. “Ixnay on the cutesy man seeking man dirty talk, fuckhead. I will make you take that hulking boner elsewhere.”

“No you won’t,” Ian replied, humping down against him.

Of course he wouldn’t, but he had to front at least a little bit. That was the nature of his inner beast.

While they were fucking, Mickey could just let himself get lost in all the appropriate heightened sensations that really good sex immersed him in. Immersed him and Ian in. Ian and him. Them. Reveling in the pleasure of carnality was totally kosher… as long as it limited him from basking in that additional Ian stuff. That feelings stuff that he had no idea what to do with. That unfathomable connection that existed between them.

He let Ian kiss him a lot too. Like, a lot, a lot. That wasn’t customary for him with other dudes. In fact, it barely ever happened. It was just another habit Ian had slipped under the wire to form with him when he wasn’t paying enough attention. Mickey was pretty sure he’d kissed more girls in his life than boys, because that was always an easy, less disgusting way to publicly appear straight during the years he’d spent in the closet. With guys, there was nothing to prove and everything to hide, so it just wasn’t something he incorporated into his casual sex routine.

Before Ian, he hadn’t exactly attracted the kind of dudes that warranted sticking around for in any capacity, or who made any kind of effort to stick with him. There were never any near-miss boyfriends, or pine-worthy hookups. Sex was always transactional and he’d been perfectly fine with that arrangement.

The truth was that once he’d fucked up and invited Ian in for repeats over and over again, he started to figure out that the sex just kept getting hotter and hotter. That when two bodies really took the time to get to know each other, things fit better, motions got smoother, and orgasms got a thousand times stronger. Turned out that one-night-stands were not where the fuck it was at. Those were always crapshoots with odds that were at best 25/75 in favor of mediocrity. With Ian, it was guaranteed total fulfillment 100% of the time.

That was the only explanation he could find for this unexpected addiction he was stuck with. An addiction to Ian and his stupidly perfect cock. The rest of his body was alright too. And when he spoke, he wasn’t completely fucking annoying. His personality and his nature were tolerable. Mickey didn’t want to gouge his eyes out every time he got sucked into a conversation.

They didn’t really hang out, though. Outside of the bedroom, that is. It was like the whole game changed when they were in bed. They could fuck, they could goof around and have a laugh, they could wrestle, they could accidentally say something profound once in a while… but if Ian had a bag of food when he dropped by, Mickey wasn’t about to sit on the couch and watch TV with him while he ate it, and he definitely wasn’t going to accept a portion for himself.

Until tonight, that is. Or last night, or however the fuck time was identified when you were a natural night owl.

Tonight, they’d crossed another invisible line in the sand, and Mickey had found himself chowing down on tacos, while heckling some shitty 90s action film; his part-time lover chuckling next to him with a sloppy mouth.

It was fucking terrifying.

So as soon as he’d realized what was actually happening, and how much he didn’t hate it, Mickey had switched over to some hardcore porn. They’d cracked jokes about it at first, but it’d done the trick of quickly leading to the familiar comfort of sexual gratification. With that justification, Mickey could just sweep the whole ‘watching a movie and eating together like they were on a date’ thing under the proverbial rug without further examination.

At least until Ian had fallen asleep around 2 AM. Then it was dwell city.

By 4:30 AM, Ian had fucked him into the mattress once again, and promptly fallen back asleep without a care in the world. Mickey was more than sated, but felt even more awake than he had an hour ago, his brain full of fresh bullshit about the man next to him and what was happening between them.

He opened his bedside drawer and pulled out his stash, knowing the high would fog up his brain enough to go off on thought tangents, and eventually shut down for at least five hours. Within ten minutes, he felt a little better, or at least more distracted. He was still very aware of Ian’s looming presence in the darkness, though. He wanted to be comforted by it, but he just couldn’t relax.

There’d always been a buffer between them, which Mickey had been diligent in maintaining, and he could see it slowly falling away now. If he didn’t step up and push back, pretty soon there’d be no barrier left standing. Who the fuck knew what could happen then.

He hated it. He felt so fucking out of control, when it should be the easiest thing in the world to control. All he had to do was break it off. He knew exactly what to say and do to make that happen. Knew enough to be able to really hit Ian where it hurt, both literally and figuratively.

But goddamn it, he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to make Ian sad, and he didn’t want to give into his own desire to try for more. He would always fuck it up, because he was a fuck-up by nature. His goddamn knuckles spelled it all out in block letters.

He wanted Ian, but he didn’t want the responsibility. Didn’t trust himself, because no one had ever trusted him before in his entire life. What kind of dumbass wanted that kind of damaged douchebag for a boyfriend? No sane one.

Against his better judgment, Mickey rolled closer to Ian and wrapped an arm around his middle, spooning him the way he secretly liked it when Ian spooned him. He held him close and breathed in his scent.

“You make me want things I can’t have,” he murmured to himself, exhaling heavily against Ian’s neck.

He fell asleep swiftly, and in the morning, he didn’t ask Ian to leave.

[misskikuwrites]

Piece by Piece (2/2)

Bederia Week 2021: Day 4- First Argument/make up

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

Tags: fluff, hangovers, mutual pining 

Words: 7,533

@bede-x-gloria

-

Gloria woke up feeling as though she'd been flattened by a stampede of Dubwool. Her head throbbed. Her throat was dry and raw, and the light streaming through the gap in her curtains seared her eyes as if she was staring straight into the sun. She rolled over, turning her back to the window, and groaned hoarsely. She squeezed her eyes shut. Buried her face in her pillow as a wave of nausea sloshed in her stomach. She felt ill. Whatever sickness she'd picked up last night, it had quickly taken hold.

 Great, another reason for me to hate the Gala, Gloria thought, and swallowed thickly. Pain lanced her throat as she did. She moaned into her pillow when another wave of nausea hit her, stronger this time. Her throat tightened. She curled into herself with a faint whimper. 

 I don't want to be sick, I don't want to vomit, I don't- 

 Another surge of nausea, rising higher up her throat. Gloria let out a sharp puff of air through her teeth, trying to keep the nausea at bay, to fight it down, to stop herself from retching. Pain drummed behind her eyes with every beat of her heart. She remained curled in a tight ball when her bedroom door clicked open and soft footfalls approached her bed. 

 "Not feeling so good, huh?" Gloria's mother's voice sounded too loud in her ears. The bed depressed next to her. "I've brought you some water and some painkillers if you're feeling up to taking them." 

 Gloria cracked an eye open at her mother. She had to blink away tears that formed beneath the onslaught of painful light. Her mother smiled kindly at her, holding a plastic cup in one hand and a pack of painkillers in the other. 

 "Don't worry, Hop told me what happened." Gloria's mother placed the cup and the medication on Gloria's bedside table, and gently touched her daughter's shoulder. "Hangovers are never pleasant, but to experience one at your age, when you'd been given alcohol without your knowledge… oh, hun." She smiled sadly. "I'm so sorry you're going through this." 

 Gloria blinked at her mother, her eyes slowly widening. A cold cloak of dread settled over her shoulders as pieces of last night came back to her. Fragments of colour, of faces and names that were now a blur, the bubbly sensation of sparkling wine on her tongue. Elliott. The boredom in his eyes, the way he'd shrugged when Bede had confronted him. Nausea crawled high up her throat. She tasted bile. 

 "Fuck," Gloria hissed through her teeth. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the prickling of tears that threatened to fall. "He gave me alcohol." 

 She hadn't picked up a virus. She hadn't caught something from someone at the Gala last night, from dancing and mingling with people for hours. Gloria had a hangover. 

 A shuddery breath escaped between her lips as they wobbled, and Gloria clenched her jaw in indignation. A different kind of pain thrummed through her chest, through her veins, blending with a surge of nausea. How could he do that to me?! She'd trusted Elliott. Lowered her guard around his sweet, understanding smile, and he'd taken advantage of her. Used her for his own entertainment. Her throat burned with ire, with the fury she wished to spew at him for doing such a thing to her. No longer did she shrink at how naive she'd been to trust him. No, it wasn't her fault. Elliott had plied her with alcohol, had woven his lies, in a way that left her unsuspecting. If not her, he would have done it to someone else. She at least had gotten home safely. 

 Gloria sat up with a groan, wincing as her head throbbed from the movement. She grabbed the cup of water off her bedside table and gulped down a mouthful before popping the painkillers into her hand and taking them with the rest of the water. Her mother took the cup off her and stood. 

 "I'll bring you some more water," she said. "If you're feeling up to it, you should come and have some breakfast. You haven't eaten since you left for the Gala last night." 

 Gloria sank against the head of her bed with a sigh. "What time is it?" 

 "Just after ten." 

 That explained the heavy gnawing in her stomach. 

 "Hop's here too," her mother continued, "he stayed overnight to make sure you were okay." 

 "Mm…" Gloria closed her eyes. Her headache made it difficult to think, memories of last night lying faint and out of reach. Breakfast sounded delightful, but she wasn't sure if her stomach would cope with anything more than the water and pills she'd taken, and didn't want to risk bringing them up. Exhaustion weighed heavily in her bones. Slowly, she sank beneath her blankets as her mother went to leave the room. 

 "Go ahead and sleep," Gloria's mother said. "I think you deserve to take it easy today after all that."

 Gloria grunted in response, already burying her face in her pillow, longing for sleep to take hold. It wasn't long before she began to drift off again, strange memories of Bede filling her mind. Faint light illuminated the blush on his face. Her fingers cupping his cheek, dusting her thumb across his flushed skin. Bede tentatively resting his hand over hers. His eyes widening in shock. He was close, so close, and the look on his face- 

 Sleep took hold before she could wonder why he'd looked at her like that. 

 - 

A few hours later, Gloria groggily stumbled from her room. She shuffled into the kitchen, driven by the ache in her stomach, and stopped to stare at Hop where he sat at the dining table. 

 "Morning, Glo," he said cheerfully, before catching himself. "Wait, I mean 'afternoon.'" 

 She glanced at the clock on the wall and winced. It was already past one o'clock.  

"I really slept that long?" Gloria asked. She shook her head in disbelief, instantly regretting the motion as her head pulsed with pain. She swallowed a groan and dug out a box of cereal from the pantry,  pouring herself a late breakfast. 

 "We figured it'd be better to let you sleep it off," Hop said. "Feeling any better now?" 

 "Eh."  

She no longer felt like she was going to heave her stomach out through her throat, but the dull throbbing of her head remained. Everything was too bright, too loud. Gloria flopped into the chair opposite Hop, and slowly munched away at her cereal. 

 "Where's mum?" she asked. 

 Hop watched her with a curious look on his face. "At work. She only took the morning off so she could look after you, but you seem to be doing alright now." 

 "I just wish this headache would go away," Gloria huffed. "Guess it hasn't been long enough for me to take another dose, huh? I should've slept in more." 

 "You can have more pills in an hour," Hop said. "Until then, you've just got to suffer. Sorry!" 

 Gloria snorted. "Wow, thanks for the sympathy." Sarcasm rolled off her tongue in between mouthfuls of cereal. She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help noticing that he was still giving her a strange look. As though he was waiting for something. "What?" 

 Hop stiffened and his expression froze in place. "I didn't say anything." 

 "Then why are you looking at me like that?" 

 He glanced away. "It's, uh, nothing, really. But you should probably check your phone." 

 "My phone? Why?" Gloria frowned at him. He was avoiding her gaze, shifting awkwardly on the chair. Uncomfortable, uneasy. Something had happened. "What did you do?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. 

 "Me? I didn't do anything!" Hop balked. 

 She glared at him suspiciously for a moment longer before standing and marching into her room to retrieve her phone. She snatched it off her bedside table and clicked the screen to life. There were a few unread messages waiting for her. Gloria read through them as she stalked back to her half-eaten breakfast; one from Sonia, another from Marnie, both filled with concern and asking how she was. Leon had typed out an apologetic message, saying that he'd heard the rumours about Elliott and wished he'd cautioned her about them last night. The sincerity - and guilt - in Leon's text made Gloria smile softly as she slid back into her chair and returned to munching at her breakfast. Hop still had an expectant look on his face, sitting on the edge of his chair. He looked away quickly when she glanced up at him. 

 It was like he was anticipating something. Gloria frowned, and turned back to the messages she hadn't read yet. There were three unread texts from Bede, one of which he'd sent a week ago when she'd bolted halfway through him teaching her to dance. He'd sent the message in reply to the excuse she'd given him that something had come up and she was busy. Gloria hadn't been able to gather the strength to read his text. She'd left it unread for a week. In fact, she'd kept her phone off for the first few days, dreading a phone call from Bede. Gloria felt her stomach twist in trepidation now as it had a week ago. She felt Hop's eyes on her. Felt the thorns of fear dig into her heart as its grip tightened around her again. She wished to shove her phone aside, to ask Hop point-blank why he was looking at her like that, to leave Bede's messages unread for as long as she could. 

 But she couldn't. Gloria took a deep breath, quiet and subtle enough that Hop wouldn't notice her fear, and checked the messages from Bede. Immediately, her fears from a week ago were dispelled. The text Bede had sent in reply wasn't accusatory at all, wasn't suspicious or gruff. He'd accepted her excuse, and hoped that everything was okay. At the end of his short message, he'd reminded her that she could always ask him for help. That was it. Gloria stared at the message in disbelief as the weight of her fear dropped from her shoulders. She'd been so worked up over nothing. It was almost laughable- almost. Her gaze drifted automatically to the two remaining messages Bede had sent, both from last night, and her blood ran cold. It was the third and final text that froze Gloria to her core.  

When you're feeling better, please call me. We need to talk. 

 Dread crashed over Gloria. Like she'd been caught by a towering wave, the air stole from her lungs. She couldn't breathe. Her head was underwater. Her mind churned. It left her winded as though she'd been dumped by that very wave, toyed with and spat out on the hard sand. 

 We need to talk.

 She felt cold. The spoon slid from her hand and sloshed into her cereal, her fingers going numb. She was going numb. Her heart thumped painfully loud in her ears, and she slowly lifted her gaze from the words on her screen to look at Hop. 

 "What did you do?" Gloria asked. She forced the words out through the fear constricting her throat. "You told him?" 

 Hop blinked at her. His uncomfortable unease shattered into an expression of indignation. "What? No! Of course not!" He bristled, huffing at her. "Why would you even think that?" 

 "Bede wants me to call him," she said, studying Hop closely. Still unconvinced. "He said… he wants to talk." 

 There it was- Hop stiffened as if he expected her to say that. He knew. 

 "See! You know something!" Gloria jabbed an accusatory finger at Hop. "What did you tell him?!"  

"I didn't say anything!" Hop protested. "Didn't need to - not that I would've anyway - with you making it obvious like that." 

 "Like what?" She frowned. "What are you talking about?" 

 What did she do? Her mind spun, wracking her memory of last night for whatever it was Hop was insinuating. Had she given her feelings away without realising it?

 "Glo, I saw it. There's no point pretending you don't know what happened," Hop said. He shifted uncomfortably, looking away from her. 

 Gloria's stomach swirled anxiously. "Saw what?" She thought back to that moment on the balcony with Bede. Her memory was fuzzy, clouded with intoxication, the very words she'd said to him were muffled as though she were trying to listen to someone speaking through a thick pane of glass. 

 Hop glanced at her incredulously. "You seriously don't know?" 

 "If I did, I wouldn't be asking you!" Gloria said, huffing in exasperation. "What are you talking about?" 

 He opened his mouth to speak, before pausing. Hop studied her for a moment, a few seconds passing as his expression turned from frustration to surprise and then the unease returned. He looked away. 

 "Gloria, how much of last night do you remember?" Hop asked, quieter than before. 

 "All of it," she said confidently. Hop turned back to her and Gloria's heart flopped. Suddenly, she doubted herself. The look on his face, the fact that he'd asked that question in the first place, sent a prickle of fear down her spine. 

 "What's the last thing you remember?" Hop asked. 

 "I…" She struggled to find her voice. "I remember coming home…" The memory was a blur of nausea and tears. "I think- I think mum helped me out of my dress and got my makeup off…?" The more she thought about it, the fuzzier her memory was.  

"And before that?" Hop looked as nervous as she felt. "At the Gala?" 

 Gloria pursed her lips in thought. "Um… I remember getting into a Sky Taxi somewhere? Marnie was there too, I think?" 

 Hop nodded slowly. "Anything else?" 

 "I remember Elliott," Gloria huffed. "That asshole. He came out onto the balcony with another drink. That's when Bede confronted him and…" she trailed off as her expression soured, lips curling in distaste. "He admitted to giving me alcohol on purpose. For his own amusement. The whole thing was such a shock, I started crying. Bede, he brought out this lacy handkerchief from Arceus-knows-where and helped me clean up my makeup." 

 Gloria breathed a faint, sheepish laugh at the memory. "I must've looked like such a mess." 

 Hop nodded slowly. "What about after that?" 

 Gloria frowned. "I already told you. We got out of the Gala and went home." 

 Hop went quiet. He chewed the inside of his cheek awkwardly, again shifting on his chair, and his nervous mannerisms sent a trickle of panic down Gloria's spine. She was missing something. Something big. 

 "Hop, what happened?" she asked. Her chest felt tight. Too tight. It was difficult to breathe. She felt dizzy. Hop refused to look at her. Her cereal, having turned into an unappetizing soggy slop, sat half-eaten in front of her. She stared at it as the pounding of her heart clouded her mind, her fingers clenched in the fabric of her pyjama shorts. 

 "Hop," Gloria asked again, "what happened?" 

 What did I do?  

Hop's answer sounded far away. Like he was talking to her in a dream. 

 No, not a dream. 

 A nightmare.  

"You kissed him." 

 Gloria couldn't breathe. "Haha, very funny Hop." She wasn't smiling. Neither was He.  

"It… wasn't a joke." 

 It didn't make sense. Hop didn't make sense. 

 "What…?" She looked up from her cereal. "What do you mean it's not a joke? I didn't-" 

 Dread. She felt dread. 

 "I- there's no way I'd-" Gloria couldn't say it. "I wouldn't do that." 

 But she couldn't remember. Her memory, no matter how hard she tried, remained dark. 

 "I saw you kiss him," Hop said, looking away. He winced as he said it, knowing the pain his words inflicted on Gloria. The dagger he drove deeper into her heart.  

"Are- Are you sure it was me? Not someone else?" The world was growing fainter around her. Words spilled from her lips in confusion, in desperation. Out of fear. "How do you know that I- that I did it and not… not Bede? Maybe he was the one who-" again, she couldn't say it. Caught on her tongue, she couldn't give that word a voice. 

 Hop grimaced. "No, it was definitely you who kissed Bede. You, uh, had your hand around the back of his head and… pulled him towards you." 

 Gloria's heart stopped dead. Shadows danced in the corner of her vision, creeping across her eyes. Her lungs burned, and only then did she realise that she'd been holding her breath. The world tilted beneath her. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. No words, no voice. Not the terror she felt crushing her heart.  

"I'm sorry, Glo." Hop sounded far away. "I really am." 

 She shook her head slowly in disbelief. Eyes wide and unseeing, nothing made sense. She didn't see Hop move, hadn't noticed it, until he was right beside her, touching her shoulder gently. She let out a breath, a silent gasp. 

 "What… what do I do…?" Gloria asked. The words barely made a sound on her lips. If Hop hadn't been at her side, he wouldn't have heard her. Waves of heat built behind her eyes, blurring her vision with tears as panic took hold once again. 

"What do you want to do?" Hop asked. 

 She closed her eyes as tears began to fall. 

 Nothing. She wanted to do nothing. She wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. Forget everything that happened. Forget that she- 

 She'd kissed Bede. Somehow, under the influence of alcohol, all her inhibitions had been swept away. All her fear had been reduced to dust. Somehow, her feelings for Bede had broken through. 

 A sob escaped Gloria's lips as she crumbled. Beneath the weight of her fear, she cried. Even though she couldn't remember it happening, she couldn't remember kissing Bede, she wished she could forget. 

 She wanted to forget it all. 

 "He knows," Gloria said in a broken whisper. She stole a breath, opening her eyes and rubbing away the tears on her cheeks. "There's no way he doesn't. Not after I… did that to him." 

 Hop gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You don't know that for sure! You were drunk, remember? Bede might just think you kissed him on impulse!" 

 "Which is probably what happened," Gloria huffed. Then it hit her. "Oh, Arceus. What if I told him that I- that I like him…?" 

 Even saying that much made her wince. Admitting her feelings out loud left a vile taste in her mouth, and the very thought that she might have told Bede how she felt while drunk sent a ripple of terror through her body. The gap in her memory threatened to swallow her whole. 

 "Hey, don't think about the worst case scenario," Hop said, "and look, even if you did tell him, you've got an excuse! You were drunk." 

 "You don't turn into a completely different person when drunk, Hop." She shrugged off his attempt to reassure her. "It's bad enough that I… kissed him. But if I told him how I felt as well… no amount of excuses or backtracking will save me now."  

Gloria exhaled heavily, deflating in her chair as if all her strength, all her willpower, had fled her body with her sigh. Her insides were twisted and jumbled, chest uncomfortably crawling with nerves. 

 "What am I supposed to do…?" she asked. There was no way forward for her, no way out of this. She was trapped. 

 "Call him," Hop said with a shrug. Gloria balked at him with an unappreciative stare. "You're gonna have to face Bede sooner or later," he reminded her. "May as well get it over and done with."  

Gloria turned away from him. Hop was right, but that didn't help the rolling waves of nausea in the pit of her stomach, nor the dread hanging above her head like a guillotine ready to drop. She reached for her phone and paused. 

 She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to face Bede or her mistakes. How could she, when she despised the person that love - mixed with alcohol - turned her into? Gloria clenched her jaw and picked up her phone, focusing on the bead of disgust that burned in her stomach and the pain it caused. Love was vile. It corrupted. It fueled jealousy, fed delusions, made her see things that weren't there. Made her question herself- and her friendships. 

 And it left her vulnerable.

 There was no point in waiting any longer. Gloria dialed Bede's number without another thought. She straightened in her chair, ignoring the surprise on Hop's face as he took a seat beside her, and listened to the ringing. Despite her determination to get this over and done with, nerves sparked to life in her chest. Her heart pounded. She jumped when a click sounded, and a sudden rush of warmth flooded her veins as Bede spoke into her ear. 

 "Hey, Gloria." His smooth voice washed over her, and for a moment, she forgot how to speak. "You got home in one piece, I assume? How are you feeling?" 

 Like her heart was in her throat. 

 "Not- Not too bad," Gloria said, "I slept most of it off, just got a mild headache now." She breathed a sheepish laugh as her mind spun, and tried to swallow the giddy feeling building inside her. A simple phone call was all it took for her walls to crumble, for her feelings to take over, for her to fluster at the sound of his voice. 

 Love. It turned her into someone she didn't recognise. 

 And that made her sick. 

 "Y-You said you wanted to talk?" she asked, trying to shove aside the flustered, love-struck side of herself, and felt the disgust still burning a hole through her stomach once again. The sharp sensation of pain flooded her mind with clarity. Heaviness returned to her gut. Regret, mixed with fear. A reminder of what she had done to him. 

 "I did," Bede said after a pause. "Although, I would rather we spoke in person. Are you busy right now?" 

 Gloria swallowed. She felt cold. Her nerves froze in place, trepidation seizing her heart. 

 Somehow, she remembered to answer him, remembered how to speak. "No, I'm free." 

 "Good. I'll come by soon, then."

Gloria closed her eyes, accepting her fate. Steeling herself to fight back tears. "Okay," she said. "I'll… see you soon." 

 "Bye, Gloria." 

 She hated - and loved - the way he said her name. 

 Gloria hung up without saying anything more. Hop watched her expectantly as she placed her phone on the table, and her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. 

 "He'll be here soon," she said. The dramatic shift in her emotions, from giddiness at Bede's voice to the hollow ache in her heart that she felt now, sapped the strength from her bones. 

 Hop kept watching her, his eyes searching her face. The concern in his eyes made her heart clench. 

 "I'll be fine," she said, though she didn't believe it. She stood from her chair, getting up to dump the rest of her soggy cereal into the sink. Her appetite was long gone.

 "I know," Hop said quietly. "But you always say that." 

 Gloria felt his eyes on her back, knew the painful expression he wore. She breathed in slowly, before turning to face him with a smile. Hop's concern was so genuine, so heartfelt, that it threatened to shatter the mask she'd built to protect herself. 

"I'll be fine," she said again. Firmer this time. 

 Hop's expression didn't change, and Gloria left him there as she retreated into her room, in part to change out of her pyjamas, but also because she couldn't bear to lie any further to Hop when he looked at her like that. 

 -

 Minutes passed like hours. When Gloria spied movement on the street outside, she shot to her feet, yanking open the front door before Bede could knock. Nerves twisted inside her gut as she forced herself to smile. Keenly aware that Hop was watching her.

 "Hey, Bede!" Gloria said, slipping out the door around his side, tugging the door closed behind her. "Why don't we go for a walk?" 

 She didn't give him much of a choice in the matter as she strode down the garden path and onto the street. Driven by nerves, her heart pounded in her chest like she'd sprinted to Wedgehurst and back. She wanted to run. To bolt again. Relationships, feelings, dealing with emotions like these was like trying to juggle handfuls of jelly. Scrambling to keep it from sliding through her fingers. 

 Gloria flashed Bede a smile, as bright as she could muster, as he stepped down the path towards her. This wasn't a battle she could fight, not a foe she could conquer with her Pokemon. She was on her own. 

 "You appear to have a lot of energy for someone with a hangover," Bede said, lifting an eyebrow at her.  

His voice made her heart skip. "You should've seen me earlier," Gloria said. She hid the tension in her body behind her smile, behind her laughter. "I felt like I'd been barrelled over by a Wooloo!" 

 She started down the street, away from her house and the Slumbering Weald. Bede fell into step with her, and she stared straight ahead, not even daring to glance at him. The space between them felt infinitesimal. She sped up slightly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts so there was no chance their hands would accidentally brush, and Bede remained at her side, matching her pace. 

 "There's a nice spot down here by the lake," Gloria said. She turned abruptly and marched through the knee-high grass. Skwovet scattered into the trees, Rookidee fluttering away into the clear skies above. A Chewtle turned slowly as she passed it, mouth hanging open. If Bede wanted to talk about the very thing she dreaded, she wanted to be away from the public, away from Wedgehurst, away from Hop. The building tension inside her chest left the threat of tears in her eyes, and she swallowed thickly. She clenched her jaw, blinking hard. She couldn't cry now. Not when nothing had happened yet. But she felt like she was hanging by a thread. A split second, a single word away, from falling. 

 Bede caught up to her as she headed down a dirt path that wove away from Sonia's house, leading towards the lake. By the waters edge stood a single wooden bench, facing out across the shimmering surface of the lake. Wind rustled through the thick grass, a myriad of Pokemon calls filling the silence. Gloria swept towards the bench and plonked herself down on it unceremoniously. She sat - deliberately - as close to the edge of the bench as she could, leaving the majority of it empty. For this conversation, she wanted as much space between her and Bede as possible. Enough space for her to breathe, to think. 

 Whether Bede noticed how she'd seated herself or not, he gave no indication. He sat what would have normally been a comfortable distance away, and Gloria fought down the urge to stiffen at his proximity. Although it was only Bede with her, she felt like a thousand eyes were watching her every movement. Watching the way she breathed, shallow and tense. Noticing the tension in her posture. She couldn't hide here, not from Bede. When he turned to face her, her expression froze. He looked away. 

 And Gloria could no longer breathe. Words caught on her tongue, lodged in her throat. Her heart cantered away in her chest, faster and faster as seconds of silence ticked by. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. No sound, no air, as if an invisible vice had tightened around her throat. 

 "Elliott has been dealt with," Bede said, finally breaking the hold that the silence had on Gloria. "So you needn't worry about him any longer." 

 Elliott? Her gut churned at the mention of his name. She found herself straightening, confusion and curiosity drawing her gaze to Bede. 

 "What do you mean?" Gloria asked. "What happened?" 

 Bede, thankfully, kept looking out across the lake. "Ms Opal is acquainted with his father," he said, "and called in a few favours. From what I've heard, he's been stripped of multiple privileges, including his position at his father's company, and will be sent to his uncle's estate in Kalos for the foreseeable future." 

 Gloria blinked for a moment, stunned. "You mean he's…?" 

 "Gone." Bede nodded. "He'll be too preoccupied with mopping up his own scandal to cause any more with you. His father and Ms Opal made sure of that." 

 The tension Gloria had been holding in her chest fled all at once, and she sank into the bench in disbelief.  

"I… thank you," she managed to say. It took a few seconds for Gloria to collect herself enough to speak properly. "You didn't have to do that for me… Ms Opal, too. I-I don't know what to say." 

 "'Thank you' suffices," Bede said, looking at her with a satisfied smile. 

 Her heart skittered. "Thank you," she said breathlessly. Their eyes met and Hop's voice echoed in her mind. 

 "You kissed him." 

 Panic returned. Gloria's heart lurched high up into her throat, her blood running cold. She cut her gaze away from Bede as crushing fear pressed down on her shoulders, on her lungs. The silence between them was deafening. 

 "Gloria, I wanted to-" 

"I'm sorry!" The words stole from Gloria's throat on the back of a sob. Vision blurring with tears. "Hop- Hop told me what happened," she continued, fingers pressing against her lips to stop them from trembling, to stop her from sobbing again. "He told me what- what I did. To you." Her eyes closed in shame. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she took a deep, shaky breath. Fear was crushing her heart. "I'm so sorry," she said as a whisper. Faint and broken. "I was drunk and… and I don't even remember it. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." 

 Gloria shuddered as she exhaled, feeling that pieces of her soul had broken away and fled with her breath.  

"Please-" It caught on her tongue. "I just… don't want you to hate me…" 

 Bede straightened. "Why would I hate you?" 

 "Because I kissed you, Bede!" She turned to him, vision blurring with tears, facing her fears. "I forced myself on to you when you were just- just trying to help me, and… I did something so despicable to you…" 

 Again, she turned away. Closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

 "I don't hate you for that," Bede said quietly. "Although I must admit I am a tad… confused." 

 Gloria swept the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands, her breath hot in her throat, and looked at him. Bede stared at his hands in his lap, fingers woven together. His brow was furrowed ever-so-slightly in thought. 

 "Why did you kiss me?" he asked. His voice, as soft as the wind caressing his platinum blond curls, left Gloria numb. 

 She opened her mouth, finding she had no voice. She swallowed. Looked away. "I-I was drunk and I… don't actually remember k-kissing you, so… I don't know." 

 The gap in her memory of that night tightened the hold that fear had on her, like a string of razor wire wrapped around her heart. Piercing her flesh with every breath. It hurt to speak. 

 "You told me once that you'd only kiss someone you had feelings for," Bede continued, "and yet, last night you kissed-" 

 "-Don't." She saw nothing. Felt nothing. 

 Nothing but fear.  

"Please." It was a plea. A desperate cry that escaped the hollow of her throat. "Please don't- don't say that. Don't ask me that. I can't-" 

 Tears. She felt them on her cheeks. Felt Bede's eyes on her. 

 "I can't…" her voice broke. Gloria shook her head, pressed her palms to her eyes, and blocked it out. She blocked everything out and shut down. Broken gasps escaped through her clenched teeth, each breath making her body shudder with agony. She curled into herself. Dug her elbows into her thighs as she doubled over. A gentle touch on her shoulder made her wince, and Bede took his hand back in an instant. 

 His touch had burned. 

 "I'm… sorry." Gloria barely heard Bede speak through the darkness encasing her mind. "I won't say anything more."  

The regret in his voice hurt more than anything else. Gloria tried to steel herself, to fight back her tears and push through her fear, as a rush of shame surged through her chest.  

She was the one who'd kissed him. She was the one who'd gotten drunk and forced herself on him. Didn't he deserve answers for that? 

 Gloria pulled her palms off her eyes and sat up straight, blinking up at the sky above in order to dry her tears. She sucked in a breath, then another, forcefully controlling how she exhaled. Slowly, slowly, easing the fear off her heart. Bede sat in silence beside her. Respectfully, he kept his gaze elsewhere as Gloria calmed herself down. When she felt as though she could finally speak, she laughed instead. That made Bede look at her in surprise. 

 "You know, everyone's always making a fuss about their 'first kiss,' making it out to be this big thing, something important," Gloria said with a rueful smile. "All that build up, and I can't even remember it." She shook her head, laughing quietly. Regret tainting her voice. "Can we just… forget this ever happened?" Gloria turned to look at Bede, trying hard to smile through the pain. 

 Bede's expression shifted as he met her eyes. There was worry, regret, and something more to the depth of his eyes as he mulled over her words. 

 "I'm not sure I can forget it that easily," he said.  

The smile on Gloria's face threatened to break. She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I… I thought that would be the case…" She looked away from him. "Was that… was that your first…?"  

"It was." 

 Gloria pursed her lips to stop them trembling. "I'm- I'm really sorry…" 

 "It's not a big deal," he said, shrugging half-heartedly. "It's just a kiss." 

 Gloria scoffed. "That's easy for you to say, I don't even remember it! It's like I haven't had my first kiss at all." She slumped on the back of the bench with a huff. "It would've been better if I did remember it, since then my first kiss would be over and done with and I wouldn't have to worry about it. I don't even know what it's like to- to kiss someone…" 

 She trailed off, remembering that she had, in fact, kissed Bede, even though she had no actual recollection of it. She let out a heavy sigh. Of course she'd kiss the one person she'd fallen for in her entire life and be unable to remember it happening. 

 "It's honestly not all it's cracked up to be," Bede said. "Really, if you think about it, all kissing is, is two people pressing their mouths together. The significance placed on kissing is out of proportion to the act itself." 

 Gloria curled her lips in frustration at him. "Says the one who can remember it," she huffed. "It's like I haven't had my first kiss at all…" 

 "But you have," Bede said. "You kissed me." 

 "W-Well, yeah." She blinked at him, nerves fluttering around her chest at how matter-of-factly he'd said that. "It just… seems a bit unfair that I had my first kiss and can't remember it, so it's like I've still got that importance attached to it." 

 She wasn't making much sense. She couldn't think straight with Bede's eyes on her, when talking about this. About kissing.  

She'd really kissed him. That alone was astounding, it was difficult to believe. But it had happened. Gloria had kissed Bede. She curled a lock of her hair behind her ear as she tried to push those thoughts away, feeling her cheeks begin to burn. 

 "I kinda feel like I've missed out here," she said to fill the silence. Gloria laughed sheepishly, aiming to lift the awkward air between her and Bede. When she looked at him, her eyes immediately flicked to his lips. 

 She looked away quickly. 

 "Do you want to know what it's like?" Bede's voice washed over her like soft ribbons of silk, each word stealing the air from her lungs. "You said you'd rather get your first kiss over and done with…" 

 Somehow, Gloria managed to peek over at him. The depth of his eyes stirred something inside her. Something warm, something that built in the pit of her stomach and flooded her veins. 

 "I…" She struggled to remember how to speak. "I mean, since I've technically already had my first kiss, it would be better to, y'know, get it over and done with so I don't have to worry about it anymore. Just- Just so I know what it's like." Gloria cleared her throat. Her eyes kept flicking towards his lips, yet it was harder to hold his gaze when he was looking at her like that. In a way she couldn't describe. "But- well, who knows when that will happen," she continued quickly with an awkward laugh. "Or if it ever will." 

 "Do you want to?" 

 Gloria gaped at him. For a moment, she wasn't sure that she heard him correctly.  

"Do- Do I want to… what?" she asked. Her voice was quiet. Barely louder than a breath. 

 Bede seemed closer to her than before. His gaze was captivating, and she couldn't look anywhere else but into his eyes, as though trapped by those deep, alluring violets. Bede seemed immune to whatever hold Gloria was under, searching her eyes for a moment in silence. 

 "If you'd rather get your first kiss over and done with," Bede said, "I could kiss you."  

She felt his words against her lips. Heat consumed every fibre of her body, and she couldn't breathe. Her mouth dropped open, fumbling over her words, scrambling for a way to answer him. 

 Did she want to-? 

 "I… but you…?" Her mind was addled. Her lungs felt like they were full of helium, filled to the brim with too much air. Was he really offering to…? 

 "You've already kissed me," Bede reminded her. His tone was light, and without accusation. Merely staring a fact. "And since you don't remember what it was like, if you want, I can show you. You've had your first kiss- all I'll do is repeat it." 

 How could she answer him? Gloria had her hands clenched tightly together in her lap, unable to find any words. It didn't feel real. All she could do was nod. Something shifted in Bede's eyes. His gaze softened, deepened, and Gloria startled when he trailed his fingers across her cheek. 

 "Tell me to stop," Bede said, his voice soft yet lower than before, "if you don't want this." 

 Gloria found herself nodding again, though she couldn't think straight. She felt his knees brush against hers. His fingers wove into her hair. 

 "This- This won't change anything between us, right?" she asked quickly. She sounded far away, distant and strangely light.

 Bede's answer dusted across her lips. "Not if you don't want it to." 

 He was close enough that looking into his eyes made her dizzy, noses almost brushing. Their breaths mingled together in the shortening distance between them.  

"Close your eyes," Bede said, and she obeyed instinctively. Her eyes fluttered shut the second he kissed her. A quiet gasp died in her throat. Her mind span. She leant into him, against him, as he slowly melded his lips against hers. 

 And oh, she knew she shouldn't be doing this, she shouldn't be kissing him like this, but the warmth of his kiss took hold of her in an instant, and everything else fell away. Her fear, her regret, nothing else mattered to her in that moment. She forgot to breathe. Forgot her inhibitions. The sensation of Bede's lips gliding over hers was all she could feel. How could he say that kissing didn't live up to the hype when it felt like this? Like she was walking on air, floating, giddy and breathless. Even though she didn't know what she was doing, she followed each and every movement of Bede's lips with her own. She was putty in his hands, melting against his lips. Melting into him. The softest moan spilled from her throat as Bede suddenly broke away from her, leaving her stunned. She blinked in a daze. The world was fuzzy around her. Her lips tingled with a sensation she'd never felt before, warmth pooling low in her gut. 

 It was like waking from a dream. Bede cleared his throat, turning to face the lake, while Gloria's mind began to slowly work again. Clarity hit her in an instant. Then embarrassment. Like a clap of thunder, it jolted her alert, and she flushed. Her fingers touched her lips, unable to comprehend what had just happened. What they'd just done.  

Gloria could still feel Bede's lips against hers, so warm and gentle, featherlight yet firm. He'd kissed her. 

 Bede had- 

 Arceus. There was no going back now. 

 -

 "Was that… sufficient?" Bede asked, needing to say something, anything, to break the heated silence suffocating him. He didn't dare look towards Gloria, knowing fully well that he mirrored the blush that burned across her cheeks. 

 Gloria jumped at the sound of his voice. "Y-Yes, it- it was," she managed to reply. 

 "That's… good." He cringed internally at how strained and tight his voice sounded. Gloria appeared stunned, unable to stay focused on anything around them as she glanced from him to the lake, to her hands in her lap, and then off to the path they'd followed to get here. 

 Bede took a breath and tried to calm the racing thoughts in his mind. He'd kissed her. Somehow, his desires had gotten the best of him and he'd offered to kiss her, and Gloria had agreed to it. He'd kissed Gloria becaused she'd let him.

 Gloria, who refused to fall in love, who'd sworn she'd never kiss someone she wasn't dating, had agreed to let him kiss her so she knew what it was like. 

 It was like Bede's insides had been turned upside down and back to front. He was in disbelief, in shock, wondering again and again if that had really happened. All it took was a single glance towards Gloria, and he had his answer. Their eyes met and her whole body twitched. Her blush doubled in intensity, mouth dropping open, her gaze flicking to his lips for a split second before she deliberately looked elsewhere. Heat trickled down Bede's spine at her reaction. 

 Arceus. Who knew he'd ever have this affect on her? He could still feel a memory of Gloria's lips against his, and his heart skipped as she, again, touched her fingertips to her lips. 

 "Gloria," Bede began, and she jolted, spinning to face him. 

 "Y-Yes?" she squeaked loudly. 

 Bede fought the giddy smile off his face, smothering the rush of pride he felt at gaining such a delightful reaction from her. 

 "Nothing needs to change between us," he continued, "like you said. Alright?" 

 Gloria nodded emphatically. "O-Of course!" Her eyes remained wide, her expression stunned, and it made Bede smile. Warmth towards her blossomed in his chest. 

 "Now do you see what I mean when I said it would be hard to forget?" he teased. 

 "Mm…" She pressed her lips together, looking away quickly. Her gaze was distant and forceful, as though she was tossing over something in her mind. He longed to ask her, to delve into whatever it was that had her so torn, but the way she'd fractured before him when he asked why she'd kissed him made him push his questions aside.  

The wound of Gloria's that he'd thought had healed into a scar was still raw. It ran deep. 

 No, Bede was a fool to have assumed otherwise. She was still protecting herself. Building up walls in a desperation Bede had felt himself long ago. Like a wounded Pokemon, cowering at the slightest noise, he knew why she reacted the way she did. 

 After a moment, Gloria managed to look at him and hold his gaze. He offered up a smile as he stood. 

 "Shall we head back?" he asked, holding out a hand to her. A gesture of goodwill. Of hope, that things were still the same between them. 

 Gloria looked at his hand, her eyes widening a fraction, before she took it. The smile she gave him was warm, as though she'd untangled whatever it was she'd been struggling with a few moments earlier. Her hand fit snugly in his, and she gave it a squeeze. 

 "Let's go," she said. 

 Bede knew in that instant that, although they'd assured each other the opposite, something had, indeed, changed between them. 

[shesawriter39049]

|THE PLUG|M| 5|

(I picked this because he looks genuinely happy here...once you read you’ll see why)

SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

About-Post sex come down...a little pillow talk..some feels...and maybe another orgasm or two....

**Your local plug aka your weedman is now offically your boyfriend....

2K SNEEK PEAK

WARNINGS: For this part? Praise kink/Light edging/ Grinding/Non penetrative sex/ Kissing/ Overstiumlation/ FEELS OH THE FEELS/mentions of subspace (1st time) OH breif mentions of previous physical abuse

NOTE- This is a series but you can read this part and not be totally lost...however all the emotions running through Jimin’s body will hit you a little diferent if you later go read the others!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey” He coos, low, warm, a little concerned, as he soothes his palm down your back, feeling the way you try and arch up into his touch no matter how weak your body is! So he grips one hand around your neck, the other at the small of your back, and slides you up further. Bringing your forehead flush to his where you can feel a deep, slow exhale leaves Jimin’s tattooed chest as if he’s been holding his breath the entire time.

“How you feelin’ baby?” There’s slight hesitation behind the question and honestly, that was understandable, this wasn’t something either of you expected. You don’t respond, or even fully acknowledge him right away, just blinking slowly, lashes fluttering, eyes trying to readjust, feeling, and looking somewhat disoriented. Yet no matter how confused you initially are, something that’s clear the moment you regain consciousness... it’s how safe you feel in Jimin’s arms right now. I mean yeah, your a little sticky, and need a long-ass shower, but you feel good, you feel secure! Reaching up to scratch his fingertips through your scalp almost as if you’re a cat, and you find yourself smiling, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your head into his hand.

Honestly, your not sure how to process what you currently feel washing over your body! I guess because the couple times you ran through how this scenario may play out in your head, it didn’t go anything like this! It wasn’t this warm and comforting afterward….it all just felt a lot darker, scarier..almost belittling. You’re independent by nature, maybe even a female alpha by some standards, so the thought of giving yourself over to anyone in that capacity, giving them full control...As much as you’ve always wanted it, realistically it always felt scary, intimidating, even a little embarrassing in your mind! Whereas this, this right here, felt natural it felt right, your body felt loved, sated, you personally felt empowered, it was nothing like what you imagined in your head. The weight behind it was so much heavier, the connection felt deeper and more liberating than you ever thought it would. Which is what makes you endlessly grateful that you saved this for someone like Jimin. Someone who would actually appreciate the notion, and understand the mental and physical side of it all, the parts that make it more than just a kink.

Of course, we can’t disregard how you feel physically, this level of exhaustion after sex is somewhat foreign to you. Your body feels sluggish and weak, your eyes are heavy, and you already know your voice is fucked. But mentally which is where your biggest concern came from, your good, you’re at peace with it all.

Lashes fluttering up in his direction, offering a faint hum in response, nodding softly against his chest. “Jus’ tired…” giving him the best smile you can muster hoping it reaches your eyes so he believes it.

He nods, slow and understanding, “Take your time baby, sleep…you were perfect” The words smiled gently into your hair, as his fingers trickle up and down your spine. Jimin knows he told Yoongi an hour, he also knows the topic of Dom being out of jail is a serious situation and needs to be addressed. However, he can’t and won’t allow himself to pull away from you until your in a stronger state than you are right now. He just can’t, so he reaches for his phone sending the elder a quick text, essentially explaining that he’s not sure when but they will talk at some point tonight.

Eventually, he feels your breathing completely even out, and your lashes still against his skin. Indicating your exhaustion has officially washed over your body and you’ve drifted off into what he hopes is a peaceful night's sleep.

Jimin’s not even sure how much time has passed and to be honest he really doesn’t care, the silence is comforting just laying in bed breathing as one. He’s far from tired, though he has every reason to be exhausted, there’s just way too much swirling around his head right now. The only sound in the room is the faint hum of the fan and the occasional playful banter he can hear from his boys downstairs. His heart feels... full, it feels complete as you lay here with him, your body feeling completely at ease against his own. After allowing him to have you in your most vulnerable state of being, after trusting him to take care of you the way you needed, even if you didn't really know what that was!

He’s not sure why or when but his eyes start to burn again and this time he lets the tears gently stream down his face. Reclining his neck, staring up at the ceiling, securing his hold around the nape of your neck and the small of your back. As if he’s reminding himself that you're here, right here and you’re not going anywhere! Jimin knows these are happy tears, and they are, he can’t even remember the last time every aspect of his life has felt as though it’s come together at once. Yet he also can’t help that ache in the back of his heart when he thinks about Dom...he’s not scared of him by any means. They use to be boys, but it’s not a secret they’ve always road slightly different waves until they eventually crashed into one another! What he is scared of is the person Dom might turn him back into if he oversteps his boundaries, especially where you’re safety’s concerned. Jimin told you that night in the car about the situation that eventually led to him leaving his parents for good. About how abusive his dad was to his mom and even after he helped her move she still let him come back. About that one night, he walked in on his dad on top of his mom and completely blacked out! The way his mother had to physically pry him off his father or he's not sure if or when he would have stopped on his own.

Jimin never thought he’d meet someone else that could get him to that point if need be, to the point that he’d do any and everything to keep them safe! Maybe it’s fucked up repossession for the fact that he feels like he couldn’t really keep his mother safe...But as he looks down at you, laying so pliant and trusting on his chest, he vividly recognizes that sense of protectiveness streaming through his veins! A feeling he hasn’t felt in years, he just prays, he never has to go there with anybody where you’re concerned, because what’s evens scarier is he knows he will, in a heartbeat!

Jimin’s not that reckless 16-year old with nothing to lose anymore, and that’s what he has to remember when his mind goes off the grid like that! He’s a  grown-ass man! A man that has so much going for him regardless of how others may feel about is life choices, he knows he’s doing well for himself! He also knows he has so much to look forward too, and more importantly he has so much worth keeping! Including the beautiful woman laying on his chest that’s choosen to walk head first into a hurricane with no fear...because she knows it’s worth it. She knows Your worth it ….

He opts not to fight it and just let it be, and continues to allow himself to feel everything he needs to, trying his hardest not to wake you in the process. Periodically wiping his face so his tears don’t trickle down his neck, trying to keep his body at ease so his abdomen dosen’t tense the more he cries. Allowing his mind to wander continiously flowing from thought to thought. The overall consensus of it all though, is he deserves this he deserves to be happy, all he can hear is Tim telling him at the end of every day they spent together…

“It’s worth it kid, it may not feel like it right now but it is, trust me one day it will be!” And he was right because right now, everything he’s ever been through feels so minuscule in comparison to how overwhelmed and happy his heart is. He almost wants to feel like he doesn’t deserve to feel this overflow but he won’t allow himself to sink there be he dose! He fuckin does….Jimin’s eyes are cloudy and heavy it hurts to keep them open at this point and he’s sure he looks like a damn blowfish. That’s when his phone beeps in his hand and his body stills praying you don’t wake up, instantly turning the phone on silent. Glaring at his phone through clouded vision to see a text from Yoongi that simply reads.

“Whenever you’re ready”

And he can’t help but smile and cry a little more because he swears the elder has a sixth sense when it comes to him. Always knowing exactly when to push and when to just ease up, Yoongi’s been a friend, a big brother, a shoulder, hell even a father in some instances since Tim’s past. Honestly, he really wonders where he’d be right now if it wasn’t; for Yoongi cheering him on, and being his right hand whenever he’d needed one! Jimin’s also very acutely aware that he does owe his “Hyung” (which is a name he’s never called Yoongi in his life mind you so, he still can’t get over the fact that he reffered to himself as such. ) A thank you, for making sure you came over here tonight because fuck if he didn’t need it! Whipping his eyes somewhat agressivly as if to say he’s gotten frustrated with himself from crying so damn much!

“Go, I’m okay…” The words muffled low and horse against Jimin’s chest but he heard you loud and clear. Eyes wide and a little disoriented at your sudden response. I mean he obviously knows what you’re referring to he just- I guess didn’t think you were fully conscious when Yoongi called initially to even know what was going on!

“What baby?” Fingers playing idly in your hair, as he felt you shift against him, head tilting in his direction, trying to let your eyes readjust to the now pitch-black room.

“That was Yoongi earlier right? Go I’m’ fine, I prom-”

‘Baby” Tone a little sharper than before but the concern is overtaking any authority he’s attempting to have right now!

“Stop,” Gently pressing your palm against his chest as if to slow him down “ I know this weekends crazy for you, I wasn’t nexpecting your undivided attention when I stopped by…I just needed to see you.” Reaching out into the dark to stroke his jaw, gently thumbing along his plump bottom lip. “Plus...mm..kinda hungry” Ohhh and the beauiful moment has now ended...smooth transition...smooth.

You could feel Jimin’s face split into a smile beneath your fingers which quickly transitioned into a full-blown cackle, loud, airy, and just fuck relieved...so damn relieved that you genuinely did seem to be okay…

“Ohh so that’s what this is about? Just trying to use me for my car huh? I see how it is…” A blatant pout laced within his delivery though it was clearly playful.

Shifting against his lap slightly, leaning down to search for his lips, which didn’t take long to find. Jimin flicked his chin up to meet yours immediately, sighing out the minute you made contact. “Yup, just wat you for your car...oh and your weed lets not forget your weed” 

A stated smile playing on your lips, as you kissed him,honestly the two of you were smiling so hard at first it took you a minute to even get into a groove! It started off slow, and chaste, initially, until Jimin reclined his jaw to allow you to lick your way back into his mouth for the umpteenth time tonight. The kiss was slow, deep, heavy, the gentle slide of his tongue against your own, as you swallow each other moans triggered by faint touches on the edge of your fingertips. Tattooing goosebumps along the soft planes of your skin after every featherlike touch…Jimin’s hands moved through you like an ocean. Ravishing every inch of you he could reach, gently massaging your aching body between his strong nimble fingers. You could feel the heightened sense of urgency within every kiss that fell of Jimin’s lips, he was kissing you as if he was afraid to let you go. As if he was trying to say something he really wants’t ready to say quite yet, but needed you to feel...

“Thank you” Pants from your lips and brushes agaisnt his, thumbing at the hinge of his jaw “For taking such good care of me, for keeping me…”up” as they say. I know at some point will need to talk about it. But right now, I’m tired, really fuckin hungry...and honestly, I feel good baby, I’m good…” Nuzzling against his nose, a faint smile playing on your lips.

You could vaguely see him nod, though even in the darkness you could sense the hint of concern and hesitation within his eyes as he pulled you back down.  So you reiterated it one more time, only there seemed to be a hint of something more than excitation dripping of your tongue once you realized the way your man was looking up at you.

“I’m good” Nipping his bottom lip between your teeth gently....

“Mmm, yeah, you are good, so damn good...” Placing another lingering kiss along your lips, hands moving down to massage the swell of your ass. which eventually leds to him rocking his hips up into you, causing you to subconsciously grind down against his lap.”Your fucking perfect”

 Panting and moaning lightly against his mouth at the sudden stimulation,within seconds he had you feeling like you were burning from the inside out. Hands gripping down to guide your hips, so you don’t have to move, rolling them even harder against his length which is now rock hard. Well aware that he’s grazing your clit every time which is exactly what he’s aiming to do. Your pussys dripping down his cock, lips spread apart giving him the perfect slide to rip you apart all over again. And your just hanging on for the ride, tt’s not long before your thighs are shaking, and your clits rock hard against him. Your bodies still overly sensitive from your two orgasms barely an hour prior, lets also not forget to mention your body still recovering from its first subspace on top of it all.

“Jimin” You whine out low and shaky, eyes barley ajar “Fuck, your gonna-”

“Yeah, I know..I know...you can do it for me, baby, I know you can...come one more time for me before I go...” There's this slight whine laced within Jimin’s voice right now, as if he’s truly saying he, needs you to come..he needs it. There a silent “please” placed within his delivery that has your toes curling into the sheets. Lips ghosting against yours, as he slowly slides his tongue back into your mouth hot and heavy. Continiously guiding your hips in a deep, hard wave  until he feels you crying against his tongue, body going completely ridget on top of him, as he edges you through it. “Yess” Slurs off his tongue over and over againas he feels you come undone, as if hes cheering you on. Nails digging into his bare chest, and he doesn’t let you breathe he doesn’t give you an inch he just kisses you right through it. Smiling against your lips as you fall completely limp against him…moaning against your tongue as he feels you driping down is cock. ‘Good girl.....my good girl” Gently rolling his hips into you, as he eases you through your comedown, body jerking in oversensetivity the entire time.

“Fuck” Panted from your lips and into the side of his neck, chest still rising and falling against his own. 

Jimin chuckles low and pleased against your lips “I just had to make sure you fell right back asleep once I leave… “ Feathering an array of kisses against your lips that you were far too spent to reciprocate but you appreciate nevertheless.

“I’m gonna assume you want Taco Bell?”

Only offering a faint hum in response I’m not sure what else he really expected you to do at this point, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Gently soothing his hand up your back, giving you a moment to fully come down before he tenatively shifts you off of his chest. Reaching over for his phone with his oppisite hand, shooting Yoongi a quick text

Jimin: Come ride with me to get food for Y/N, we can talk about Dom then, I’ll be ready to leave in 15!

Jimin: Oh, have Tae or Kook go to her car it’s unlocked and bring her bags in, leave them outside my door.

Jimin: Thanks hyung ;P

__________________________

HEYYYYYYY,

If you guys are excited for part 5 show this some love and come talk to meee!!! I’ve been playing with this chapter for about a month now....

Also, CH.5 is the rest of 4:20 weekend...which hint, hint does involve Yoongi and Jimin meeting with Dom, and some other little domestic-esq moments! This also obviously isin’t the only smut in the chapter I actually wanna have them have sex in a fun location I just dont know where yet. Yoongi and Tae are in chapter 5 a little more as well! 

Part 6 is where it Jumps ahead to the wedding she and Jimin attend in miami btw!

PART 4 :

[thelightofthebane]

Be a Shadowhunter, Kill All the Demins!

Summary: “You know I’ll have to tell your parents, right?”

“I don’t care. They were wrong,” Max looked defiantly at Ragnor, puffing his cheeks again. “Daddy protects everyone who needs. I protect too. I want to be like daddy.”

OR, 5 times Max wanted to be like Alec + 1 time he was happy to be like Magnus

~

This work is for two events that have the same goal - spread all the love for Alec Lightwood-Bane on this very special day ❤ For Alec’s Birthday Weekend Celebration organized by the lovelies @chibi-tsukiko and @my-archerboy, and for the Alec Lightwood Birthday Surprise event on Malec Discord.

Happy birthday to our dear Consul/Inquisitor who loved a man so much, he changed the world for him 🥰❤

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Read on AO3)

1. Debriefing

Several nests of eidolon demons popped up in the Queens area, and Alec had to call an urgent meeting to explain the situation to his subordinates and distribute their tasks and split them into teams.

Everyone paid unwavering attention to their leader until someone else caught their attention.

A very small and blue someone.

Without Alec noticing, Max had sneakily gone next to him, and started nodding his head and imitating his daddy’s scowl as if he was the one giving orders to the Shadowhunters. He even moved his hands like Alec and sometimes would put them on his hips with a proud look.

It took some time for him to realize Alec had stopped speaking for a moment and was looking at him with arched eyebrows.

Max giggled and turned to the Shadowhunters again.

“Kill all the demins!”

Alec pressed his lips on a thin line, trying to not laugh, and also turned to everyone in the Ops Center.

“You heard him. Dismissed.”

2. Archery

“What are you doing?”

At the sound of his brother’s voice, Max jumped slightly and accidentally shoot upwards, hitting one of the balcony’s lamps.

“Rafe!” Max whined and pouted. He hasn’t heard Rafe approaching, and it was the same for his daddy. Shadowhunters were good to walk without making a sound, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t do the same. To be a Shadowhunter he had to walk silently!

It was then that Rafael noticed all the toy arrows scattered around the floor – none at the big bullseye target.

“Were you practicing again?”

“Yes! Must be a Shadowhunter like daddy. He loves his bow, so I love too.”

“Your aim is terrible.”

Max pouted again, his lips trembling.

“I be better. Be a Shadowhunter!”

Rafe sighed long and deeply, then nodded.

“I will train with you.”

Max bounced and promptly ran to collect all the arrows on the floor. He was going to be the best archer in the world!

3. Shaving

Alec hated undercover missions. Not only they took days – sometimes even weeks – to get done, but they were also always far away from home. And sweet Raziel, he missed home. He missed his sons, his cats, his bed. More than anything, he missed Magnus.

So, after almost twelve days in a dangerous mission in Cairo, he was finally back in New York. And after a good night's sleep, the first thing he did in the morning while Magnus was still asleep was shaving. His stubble was almost growing into a full beard, and as much as his husband liked his – in Magnus’ own words – caveman look, Alec preferred his face clean shaved.

When he was halfway through it, he noticed Max standing on the bathroom’s threshold, looking at him with big, curious eyes. Alec smiled at his baby, then went back to his task. A minute later, not only Max stood next to him, but also had almost his entire face covered in white cream.

“Daddy, me too!” Max whined, making grabby hands at his razor.

Alec chuckled, fondly shaking his head. Then, he reached for a new razor and took out the blade, proceeding to give only the plastic part to Max.

“Pay attention to how I do and copy, okay?”

The beaming smile Max gave him was answer enough.

4. Cooking

For once, it was afternoon and Alec wasn’t working. However, Magnus was at a warlock meeting in Nevada, and Rafael was at the Institute with Jace and Simon. So, Alec and Max decided to try and make a surprise for Magnus and Rafe.

Baking cupcakes proved to be harder than Alec anticipated.

“Daddy, daddy! Taste this,” Max offered a big spoon with a brownish substance, and being at the receiving end of Izzy’s food for a long time, Alec thought nothing more could surprise him.

Looked like his son went beyond his expectations, and he had to put his better neutral face to not grimace.

“Max, what have you put in this batter?”

“Choco. Coco. Chalk. Nannamon,” Max enumerated with his fingers while Alec had to blink a couple of times, frowning.

“It’s cinna–” He stopped himself, having to make a double-check. “Did you just say chalk?”

“Yeah!” Max pointed to a bowl full of them near a blackboard Magnus liked to use to write ingredients or to give points to Max and Rafe when they completed a task with success. Ten points and they were awarded whatever food they wanted.

“By the Angel…” Alec mumbled “I’ll have to talk to Magnus about that, and you,” he poked Max’s belly, gaining delightful giggles from him. “You can’t have the Lightwood’s bad skills for cooking, or bapa will prohibit us both to be in the kitchen.”

“I’ll be good, I promise!”

“I know, my baby, I know.”

5. Protector

“So…?” Ragnor crossed his arms on his chest and arched an eyebrow, waiting for one of the kids to talk.

This is why he didn’t want to accept the position at this new Downworld-Shadowhunter Academy. Kids were insufferable. One of them being Magnus’ son didn’t help either. It was a double headache.

He had to stop a fight from escalating to bigger proportions – one involving Max Lightwood-Bane, another warlock and one werewolf, both being five years older than Max. And both showing more bruises than Max.

“They were being mean to another boy!” Max puffed his cheeks, also crossing his arms. “I stop bad guys.”

“He was a Shadowhunter,” the werewolf snickered. “You only defended him because your brother and your father are one.”

“You should be ashamed to have a Shadowhunter father. They are disgusting,” the warlock added.

Angry wisps of magic started to circle around Max’s fingers.

“Don’t talk like that about daddy! He is the best. You are the dis… dis…”

“He doesn’t even know how to speak,” the werewolf spatted, clearly wanting to continue the previous fight.

“Enough!” Ragnor’s voice thundered in the small room and the door opened abruptly. “You two go to the Infirmary to treat those wounds. I will talk to you later. Max, you stay.”

The two older kids acquiesced, leaving Ragnor alone with little Max.

“You know I’ll have to tell your parents, right?”

“I don’t care. They were wrong,” Max looked defiantly at Ragnor, puffing his cheeks again. “Daddy protects everyone who needs. I protect too. I want to be like daddy.”

Ragnor let out a heavy sigh.

“Lilith, you are going to be a pain when you get older. You have the same stubbornness and bad attitude of those two idiots.”

“Yes!” Max agreed, even if he didn’t understand why Uncle Ragnor was talking bad things about his parents. But bapa said once that when Uncle Ragnor insulted someone, he was truly praising them, so Max shouldn’t be worried.

It was enough.

+1. Magic

Max heard the opening and closing of the entrance’s door, meaning his daddy finally arrived from his patrol. Excited, he left his room and ran to greet his daddy, when he saw something he wasn’t really expecting.

Alec had face planted on the couch, his clothes stained with ichor and blood.

Max’s heart beat a bit stronger, his face frowning in concern.

“Daddy?”

Alec hummed, but didn’t move. Was he sleeping? Max approached and saw his daddy with closed eyes. Why he wasn’t healing himself? Glancing at the cuts thought Alec’s ripped clothes, Max felt like crying.

His daddy was in pain. He… He had to do something. He had to help. What bapa did when daddy was hurt? He would wave his hands, right?

Frowning even more in concentration while scrunching his nose, Max tried to bring out his magic, only thinking about taking away his daddy’s pain. Some sparks flew to Alec’s skin, but he didn’t know if it was working.

For as much as Max wanted to be a Shadowhunter too, he would be happy to continue being a warlock if he could heal his daddy. And bapa. And Rafe.

“Max?” Alec slurred, blinking his eyes open and looking unfocused at his son.

“Daddy!” Max hugged him, still trying to send magic into his body. “I will heal you, daddy. I promise.”

“I know,” Alec smiled, closing his eyes again. “I’m already much better, my baby.”

“You are?”

Of course Alec knew Max didn’t know any healing spells, and the pain was still there – he drew some Iratzes, but there was a small dose of non-lethal toxin from the demons he fought that was preventing the healing rune to take effect. Magnus would have to help him with that.

“I am. You are amazing, Max. Just like your bapa.”

And although there wasn’t healing in Max’s magic, there was a warmth that only his son could give him. It was different from Magnus, but oh, so good.

It was like knowing that your home grew bigger.

Home was Magnus. Home was Max and Rafe.

Home was where the Lightwood-Banes existed.

[sunflowerfromthefog]

Testing the Tonic

Description: The clown has a new recipe he wants to try out, and with only two survivors left in the trial he decides to give it a go.

Pairings: Clown/Reader, David King/Reader

WARNINGS: rape/non-con, non consensual drug use

You can also find my writing on AO3!

You could feel his eyes on you, feel your heart beating hard against your ribs as you tried to hurry the progress of the generator. It wasn’t anywhere near being done when you found it, damaged once again by the Clown. You heard a scream in the distance, eyes darting around the generator and through the trees of the red forest. You saw a pink mist near the cabin, recognized another scream as David King, the brawler of your group. You gulped and kept working, hoping he could keep the killer distracted long enough for you to get your work done. Your other two teammates were already gone, one sacrificed to the entity, another killed by the Clown himself. You heard his laugh echo around you as you moved a wire into the wrong place and the generator exploded. You were knocked on your ass, ears ringing a moment before you could open your eyes. Footsteps crept behind you and for a moment you thought you were about to meet the wrong end of a butterfly blade but instead your eyes met David’s. You breathed a sigh of relief. “You lose him?” David only blinked at you through the moonlight. You noticed his eyes were wide, his pupils blown so large you could barely make out the irises. You climb to your feet but keep yourself low, waving him closer to you. He took a glance over his shoulder, then around the tree he hid behind before crouching over to you. He had a few cuts and bruises on his shirtless torso, hands wrapped up and ready for a fight. You didn’t understand why he went without a shirt in the trials, but the fact that he survived more often than not made you never question it. “Come on,” you said, nodding to the generator, “we just need this one done and...what?” You noticed he was looking you up and down, his eyes stopping at your shirt that was torn at your left shoulder, revealing your skin. You’d caught it on a bush while trying to hide, but maybe he thought the Clown had found you. “I’m fine, I wasn’t hit.” He nods and moves past you, starting on the gen silently. You joined him, looking at him from the corner of your eye curiously. David wasn’t exactly the quiet type. Nor was he one to lose focus on his task. His own eyes kept drifting towards you. You shook your head, forcing yourself to look at the wires before you. Another explosion like before you the Clown would find you quickly. Once the generator was nearing 75% completion you realized you were alone. You stopped working and looked around the forest, but not even a bird was crying nearby.   “David?” you hissed. Since when did he just leave people? And since when had--a bottle smashed beside you, erupting in a pink mist. You began to choke, the vile taste dancing across your tongue. But...this time it wasn’t so vile. It was sweet, almost like strawberries, and as you took another deep inhale without coughing. Your world spun as you stood, using the generator for leverage when you were suddenly pinned to it. Large hands slammed down over your own on top of the generator, wrapped knuckles you recognized as David’s. Your instinct was to scream, but the feeling of his skin against yours only made you groan. Had it always been this hot in the forest? You remembered this place as one of the many cold ones...not so...warm. Inviting. “Is he coming?” you questioned David. Maybe he’d merely run into you trying to block an attack, but a strike never came. “Already here,” David answered. His lips pressed to your neck, knuckles turning white over yours as he kept you in place. He bit at your skin, sucking large welts onto you all while grinding against your ass. “What?” you asked. Your voice was oddly wispy, breathless even. Your head turned to look at David properly but only resulted in his right hand snapping up and wrapping around your neck and forcing you to look the other way. He let out a growl, slipping his other hand up your arm to rip what was left of you shirt from your body. He groped at your breast rough enough that you thought it should hurt, but instead it sent a shock of pleasure into your core. You started to stand on your toes, attempting to grind back against him but he wasn’t allowing you any kind of movement. He growled again, tightening his grip on your neck as if to force you to stay still. “Dav...David,” you stuttered as best your could, “s-stop…” Not that you wanted him to, but you knew something was wrong. It wasn’t your first time with David, not by a long shot, but the lack of communication, his extreme roughness, and the fact you were in a trial, terrified you. You finally found the strength to lift a hand and try to push at you assailant but instead found your hands pinned to the top of the generator. But not by David. “Got him all riled up for you,” the Clown said. His twisted features came clear into view as he held your wrists against the metal. You struggled, but with David behind you and the Clown’s supernatural strength you were thoroughly trapped. David released your neck and moved his hand beneath your shorts, finding your clit and starting switch between rubbing it and sliding down your folds. Were you wet? Feeling your slick made David let out a groan, his dick twitching against your behind. “Ya want it to then, eh?” “No,” you moaned, a clear contradiction in your voice. You tried to focus your eyes on the Clown, his wide and bloodied grin right in front of you but found it nearly impossible. “What did...what did you do?” “Made a new tonic,” he said, “just for you and the big boy here. Gave you a low dose, just enough to make sure ya know what’s happening, but him? He’s got some’n a little stronger.” He let out a laugh, forcing a wave of foul breath over your face. You wrinkled your nose then gasped as David forced a finger into you and crooked it. As David continued to press a single finger into you, forcing whimpers and gasps from you, the clown clasped your wrists together and pinned them with one hand. With his other he pulled out his knife. You tried to pull away as he laughed again but rather than slicing through your skin he cut your bra straps. His eyes fell down to your chest, licking his lips slowly as he moved the blade to the valley between your breasts. “David,” you breathed, “you have to--” he pressed three fingers into you know, his palm grinding against your nub. “You have to stop him!” The Clown cut through your bra, letting it fall to your feet. David began to pull your shorts and panties down to your ankles, and with the way he was touching you you weren’t sure how you hadn’t cum yet. The fire in your body covered you head to toe, and matched with the electricity in your core this was beyond anything you’d ever felt before. “Look at these,” the Clown chuckled. His released your wrists and pinched your nipples. Your hands flew up with a scream, clawing at his wrists uselessly while he took advantage of your sensitivity. “Such a little slut you are, ain’t she boy?” “My little slut,” David mumbled. He bit down hard on your shoulder, making you scream. “Why don’t you stop teasing your little slut and give her what she wants?” Tears began to form in your eyes as you shake your head. The Clown’s filthy hands cupped your breasts, oblivious to your struggle to get him off of you. “She’s likin’ this, getting manhandled in the dark.” “No,” you said. You wanted to shake your head harder but it only made you more dizzy.   David pulled his fingers from you, and it was only then that you started to really feel the pain in your hips from being pressed against the generator so hard. Your knees were ready to give out, but you stayed up as David held your hips.   Your juices dripped down your thighs as David kicked your feet further apart. When he’d taken out his cock you didn’t know, but you now felt him aim it at your entrance.   “David, stop, you...this isn’t--” You couldn’t get a full sentence out as the Clown continued to play with your breasts. “Oh, he can’t stop darling,” the Clown said. He leaned in until you could only see the paint on his face. “Come on, give us a kiss.” The Clown’s lips were rough as they pressed against yours, but all you could focus on was the way his tongue easily entered your open mouth. You tried to pull back but he grabbed a chunk of your hair and kept your there. You could feel his smile as tears finally started to fall down your cheeks. David thrust into you sharply, giving you not time to adjust before pulling out and pushing back in. You screamed into the Clown’s mouth at the slight pain that came with the thrusts, but more from the pleasure it brought you. God, you’d been with David before but he’d never made you feel this good. The squelching sounds coming from him entering you over and over again were all you could hear as the Clown continued to taste your mouth. His tongue travelled everywhere it seemed, sliding over your own tongue, the roof of your mouth, your teeth and cheeks. When he finally released you he laughed again. “Wondering why you can’t get off yet?” Through your haze, you squinted at him. But your silent question went unanswered.   The Clown leaned back, leaving you to claw at the metal beneath you in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure between your legs. While you felt David’s dick fully, your walls clenching around him in an attempt to chase your high, it wasn’t enough. You glared at the Clown’s grin as he walked around the generator, dick erect and in hand. He stroked himself casually. You watched his hand travel up and down his shaft, resting your head on top of the cool metal in hopes of relieving the heat. It didn’t work.   “Ngnnnnn,” you groaned, eyelids hooded. The Clown’s dick twitched at the noise, a bit of precum leaking from his tip. He was bigger than David, and David wasn’t average. “Please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for. The Clown pulled a small vial from his pocket and popped the cork on it before holding it beneath David’s nose. With one last hard thrust David released into you, grinding against you for minutes as he filled you with a shout. He stayed there for a moment, his dick gradually getting softer as you cried. “Fuck, love,” David said. He pulled out and stepped back, but you didn’t dare turn around to look at him. You heard a thump, the familiar sound of a body hitting the forest floor. You were holding yourself over the generator, naked and leaking both David’s juices and your own. Tears kept springing from your eyes, and while your walls twitched with residual pleasure, you needed more. Wanted more. Of all the times you’d been sexually frustrated, it didn’t compare to the pain you currently felt. Slowly, you balanced more of your weight on your feet, pushing yourself up from the generator. Your eyes slid to the clown, still stroking himself beside you. He arched a brow at you and while you couldn’t feel your legs, you started to run. You took off towards the cabin and actually made it inside before you couldn’t move anymore. You fell to your knees, scraping them against the wood beside the table. Footsteps fell behind you and you started to shake your head. The Clown’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he lifted you. You felt his dick press against your lower back, and as he “helped” you to your feet one hand groped at your breasts. “Stop,” you ordered, voice quiet. Sex with David was one thing you could recover from--he wasn’t in his right mind--but the Clown? A killer? You planted your hands on the table, hating that you were in the same position as before with the generator. The Clown turned you to face him, giving you a shove until you sat on the table. The wood was harsh against the delicate skin of your bum and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together. It gave you a small bit of pleasure, making you sigh. The man--or monster--before you gripped your knees and pulled them open, pulling you to the edge of the table. He kept you there, watching you try and fail to push him away from you. He stepped closer, his stomach pressing against you. His right hand slid up your thigh and he pushed three bulky fingers in your cunt. He rubbed your walls, smiling as they clenched around him and you covered your mouth with the back of your hand. “Ya wanna cum don’t ya?” he asked. Body betraying you further, you nodded.   “I can make it happen, ya just gotta ask nicely,” he told you. “I’ve seen how sweet you are with your friends. Why don’t you be sweet with me, darlin’?” You blinked up at him, horrified. But before you could understand what you were doing, you whispered, “Please...please…” He lined up the bulbous tip of his cock with your entrance, pressing in just a bit to make you inhale sharply. “Come on…” “Please, let me come.” You covered your face with both hands, hiccuping as you tried not to cry. You heard a cork pop and the Clown shoved into you. You screamed at his size, though it didn’t hurt, just...filled you. Completed you, you thought. When your hands slapped against his chest he shoved a vial beneath your nose and you breathed in the sweet berry mixture.   And finally, you reached your high. You shrieked, rocking your hips in time with the Clown’s now violet thrusts. Your hands moved to meet at the back of his neck, and he pressed an open mouthed kiss to you. You were more than willing to let his tongue into your mouth, thrusting your own forward to meet his. It felt longer than it should have, your walls repeatedly flexing around his cock. As the pleasure began to die down you briefly thought you might pass out like David had, but the Clown wasn’t finished with you. You knew there was more of this pleasure to be had. “Ya want some more?” he asked, as if sensing your thoughts. “Yes!” you cried. Your legs wrapped around his ample waist as best they could.   “Ya wanna come again sweet thing?” “Oh God, yes,” you said, “please, again, I wanna--I wanna!” The Clown smashed a bottle on the ground and this time a purple mist flew around you. And just like that, your mind snapped back to normal. The pleasure between your legs faded a bit, and the reality of what was happening crashed down on you. Instead of pulling the Clown as close to you as possible, instead of relishing in the heat of his body and the feel of his hands on your skin, you started to push at him. You screamed for him to let you go, to get away from you but he just did what he did best. He laughed. “What?” he asked. “Don’t wanna cum anymore?” “No! Get off of my you son of a--!” The clown pulled your hips flush to his, one hand pressing against your back and ensuring you couldn’t get away. You couldn’t close your eyes, and watched as the Clown’s face contorted in pleasure while his dick twitched and released inside of you. His hips rocked, shooting his seed deeper inside of you than even David reached. Mouth agape, you were frozen, and the Clown took the opportunity to give you another passionate kiss. Soon he pulled out, patting a hand on your thigh as if congratulating you. “A good little slut, you are.” He tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you with an ache between your thighs and unable to move still. You first thought it was because of what had just happened--after all, you’d just begged a psychotic killer for sex--but soon realized you couldn’t move. Your body wasn’t frozen, it was paralysed.   The Clown continued, “Don’t worry, that’ll wear off. I’ll go take care of your friend out there and by the time I’m done you should be able to run. Maybe you can find the hatch before I find ya again. Could always go for a round two.”

[s-c-r-i-p-s-i]

Cruel to be Kind

[Dead by Baelight’s Kinktober // Day 3, 17, and 24 : Knifeplay, Bond, Basement]

🖤 🖤 🖤

“You gonna tell me what we’re doing here, or…?”

“I mean I could,” Danny conceded, casually throwing up his hand in a sort of shrug gesture that Frank was positive was specifically manufactured to show off his knife and the fact that he was holding it, steel glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

“But that would ruin the surprise.”

🖤 🖤 🖤 Pairing: Ghostface (Danny Johnson) x Legion (Frank Morrison)

Rating: Explicit

CW: homophobia, non-con/dub-con, knifeplay, bondage, smut, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2,828

“Well, well, well. What do we have here…”

Incredulous, Frank squinted at the man through the pinhole slits of his mask, lip curling over his teeth. “I - You’re literally the one that did this. You haven’t even left the room.”

Ghostface had torn him away from the lodge and tied him to this fucking chair in the basement - and Frank had been helpless to stop it, because even with all their God-given gifts from the Entity, Danny was still stronger than him.

All the others had fucked off, Joey in a Trial somewhere, and Jules and Sooz were… doing their thing. (God help anyone who fucked with ‘girl’s night, that shit was sacred.)

The minute he’d been left alone, that fucker swooped in like he’d been waiting - shit, maybe he had been. Creepy bastard.

And now he had the audacity to act like he’d just stumbled on him here? For - what - dramatic effect?

The man deflated exaggeratedly, his head flopping to the side like his neck suddenly just couldn’t support it anymore. “Don’t be a party pooper, Frank.” He sighed, somehow managing to make even disappointment reek of dishonesty and condescension. Nothing about that guy was real. Not a goddamn thing.

Releasing a nostril-flaring, profoundly annoyed breath out from his nose, Frank bunched his hands into fists so tight his fingers cracked and tried testing out his restraints behind his back. He wasn’t terribly surprised to find the ropes completely unyielding, but it still shot an ample dose of pure, uncut panic right into the mainline. Not that he’d ever fucking show it. Frank didn’t even want to think about the level of sadistic glee Danny would bag from that. A whole metric fuckton, he was sure. “You gonna tell me what we’re doing here, or…?”

“I mean I could,” Danny conceded, casually throwing up his hand in a sort of shrug gesture that Frank was positive was specifically manufactured to show off his knife and the fact that he was holding it, steel glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

Frank did not like it there. It was the place where the veil - if there was such a thing - between the realm and the Entity was the thinnest. The place where her whispers were the loudest. It gave him the creeps. Of fucking course Ghostface would feel right at home there.

“But that would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?” There was a beat of silence, just long enough for Frank to realize what a stupid fucking question that was.

“…I’m starting to think you don’t grasp the concept of ‘surprise.’ That’s fine.” He said, hooking his knife underneath Frank’s hood and knocking it off his head, gently tracing the flat of the blade along the side of his neck. It was cold against his skin, and he had to reign in a shiver. “I never did pick ‘em for their brains.”

Pick… who? Frank wondered. His victims? “If you kill me I’ll just come back,” Frank scoffed a little too quickly, sounding nervous even to him. Dying fucking hurt. And it’s not like it happened all that often for him to have built up some kind of tolerance to it - if that was even a thing. “What’s the point in that?”

“Very astute, Frank,” Danny cooed, quietly flipping the blade so that the sharp side was just grazing Frank’s neck. “But…” He continued, leaned back and quiet, like he was distractedly admiring the sight. “I think that overlooks an awfully big part of the whole appeal. Don’t get me wrong; I’ll admit, that little caveat can be a little… dissatisfying at times. But I’ve never killed people just because I want them to stop existing. That’s boring.”

If he weren’t literally being held at knifepoint, Frank would have let his head fall back with a groan. Did he ask for a fucking monologue? Was that why he tied him up? So he’d be a captive audience to his bullshit?

“No,” Danny continued, “Sometimes… You just want to watch ‘em bleed.”

A sharp, stinging pain biting through his neck had Frank suddenly sitting up a little straighter, muscles clenching at that zing that shot through him.

That son of a bitch actually cut him!

“Fuck. Off.” Frank grit out.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Frank grunted at the weight of the other man suddenly dropping himself into his open lap, no warning or discretion, just plopping down and straddling him like he owned the place. Once Frank got over the initial shock he immediately tried to jerk away in protest. Shit, Danny was surprisingly dense for someone so short. Heavy. “What the fuck are you eating, guy?! Get the hell off me, you fucking… fag.”

Another beat of silence that seemed intentionally timed to make him start regretting it. Not that he needed any time to regret it. Saying it always made him feel fucking gross. But he’d rather just bullheadedly… keep on keeping on than actually acknowledge that weird ass feeling.

“Hm.” Danny lifted Franks mask, sliding it up and off his face to rest on top of his head. “That’s an awful nasty word for someone who regularly fools around with another guy, himself, don’t you think?”

It didn’t even feel like it was supposed to be a stinger, it felt like he was just… asking. Taking off his mask like this was some kind of personal aside, just your friendly neighborhood Ghostface, checking in. It only pissed Frank off more, clenching his teeth tightly before finally responding.

“That’s fucking different. I’m not gay.” Most of the time that he was with Joey… that way - which was the only thing he could possibly be alluding to - it was all of them. Together. Threesomes or foursomes or whatever weren’t gay. It was hardly ever just the two of them; sometimes he had Joey blow him or something but that was it. And even if they did do shit - that was Legion. It was different. Danny wouldn’t understand. (How could he? He didn’t have anyone or anything.)

“Call it what you want, handsome.”

Frank’s lips couldn’t help but tug in two different directions at that little nickname, like he didn’t know whether he wanted to scowl or laugh. The middle ground was an embarrassing, wobbly, stupid little smirk that he just couldn’t seem to wipe off his face.

Mercifully, Danny didn’t call any attention to it. Returning the knife to his neck - on the opposite side now, Danny dragged it around to catch just under Frank’s chin, forcing his face up. Frank put on a tough face, jaw clenched, chin jut resolutely, eyes full of defiance, but he was hanging off every word and the bastard knew it. It was just - he was taking that little barb suspiciously well, and part of him was kind of just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to plunge the knife straight through his throat.

Instead, he leaned in and said “…But a spade’s a spade.” Then… he just eased off. Removed the knife. Pulled back.

And just when Frank thought he could take a breather -

“So you like dick!” Ghostface announced like it was one half of a headline, and far too loudly for comfort.

Frank visibly startled at the emotional whiplash, blinking back shock and incredulously glancing around the basement for witnesses even though he knew it was just the two of them. His mouth hung open, tongue buzzing with some acidic, half baked response that he never managed to get out.

“Big deal, that’s nothing to be ashamed of! And- not that it did before- but what the hell makes you think that kind of thing matters here? What are you scared of? The survivors? The Entity? You think big momma in the sky is gonna fucking… Spank you? She doesn’t care.” Danny huffed, clearly amused.

“I don’t-…” Frank sighed, gaze averted. He was tired of arguing, and hoped the note of… genuity? Would make him fucking drop it.

Fat chance.

In retrospect, maybe he should have just gone down kicking and screaming.

His attempt to deny everything was swiftly interrupted by a breathy laugh that Frank was disgusted to discover he actually found kind of cute. Until he promptly ruined it.

“Sorry - what was that? I can’t hear you over the fucking boner that’s been brewing ever since I sat down. You know your dick kinda jumps whenever I hold the knife to your throat?” Danny shook his head, chuckling. “No offense - but I think whether or not you’re gay is the least of your problems, you adorable little sicko.”

Furious, indignant heat shot up to the surface, Frank’s face becoming utterly inflamed as he burst out the first thing that came to mind. “F-fuck you!”

Okay - it wasn’t a particular intelligent, or even good response, but what the hell else could he say? If he was free, he’d just start talking with his fists, (or his boots, or his teeth) but there wasn’t shit he could do. Not that he wasn’t champing at the bit to try, struggling against the restraints so hard the friction was starting to make his wrists feel raw.

“No…” Frank could just hear the shitty smile in his voice as he put the knife away. “That’s not how it’s gonna go. You can blow me though!” Danny decided cheerfully, hopping off his lap and resting his hands on his hips, looking down at him expectantly. He had to be joking - he had to. But he didn’t even budge.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! I’m not going to-”

“Sorry,” Danny gestured dismissively, as if he could just wave away the opposition, “Let me be more clear.” He told him, the smile gone from his voice as he spoke slowly, with a dangerous precision. It was such a severe tonal shift that Frank actually stopped struggling just to listen.

“You’re going to blow me. And if I feel any fucking teeth, I’m going to kill you, and every one of your friends.”

He felt the jolt in his core, but didn’t quite connect the dots that his body had reacted until he heard Danny snort, and realized that - not only was he right about his dick twitching, but Danny was playing him like a fucking fiddle. That wasn’t a threat, it was dirty talk. And he fell right for it.

Frank had to admit, the logistics of how he was going to do this while tied up weren’t exactly at the forefront of his mind as Danny began pushing the opening of his coat aside and tinkering with his pants.

And maybe he should have been more concerned, but asking would have been too close to - he didn’t know, acceptance? And he was still stubbornly clinging to the idea that he didn’t want this, despite the evidence on full display to God, the Entity, and whatever the fuck else was out there, no amount of twisting around doing anything whatsoever to conceal the painfully obvious bulge in his pants.

What he was thinking, was how it was kind of fucked up that the first real flash of skin he’d ever seen of the guy was his dick. That was like glory hole levels of dirty; it should have squicked him out that he had no idea what the guy looked like underneath that mask, should have had bile crawling up his throat, but it didn’t. He had a lot of pretty clear expectations in his mind about how he should have been feeling at that moment. But maybe Danny was right, maybe he was more fucked up than he thought. Because all he could feel was hunger.

Frank would be hard pressed to call another man’s cock pretty, okay - but it kind of was. He was paler than he was expecting, and he wasn’t sure why, he’d probably seen pictures of him at one point or another, international sensation that he was, but fuck if he ever paid any attention to the news. But he was from Utah or some shit, and Frank didn’t know all that much about the US but he guessed it made sense that he was whitebread whitebread. It just made it incredibly obvious how flushed it was, so very, very pink. It might have been funny, if it weren’t intimidatingly massive. Kind of lean - Frank could definitely say he was thicker, and yes, he was immediately mentally comparing like it was some kind of competition - but long. Sleek. With a glint of metal at the tip - that was unexpected.

“That’s right,” Danny hummed, gloved hand stroking himself to grip at the base, cock head swelling as he flexed it. He was fucking incorrigible, the cheeky bastard. “Keep staring. You’re really selling me on the heterosexuality.”

Fuck - that’s right, his mask was off. His eyeline, and his every goddamn expression completely out in the open. He was pretty sure he was still scowling - that was just the default - but he wasn’t sure it was terribly convincing.

“Someday, Frankie, you’ll realize what a gift this is,” He continued, faux-wistfully as he stalked forwards and grabbed the posts on either side of the chair back. For someone who wasn’t all that tall, he was awfully good at looming. Commanding attention, like he was the only thing in Frank’s entire field of vision.

The chair started to slowly tip forward, back legs lifting off the floor. Frank’s stomach lurched, and he immediately barked out in protests. “Hey!”

“Really - you should be thanking me,” Danny ignored him, steering the chairposts, dragging them down, down, down, tipping him further and further forward.

Frank felt like his heart was going to fall through his ass, if he didn’t go into cardiac arrest, first. Danny’s cock was practically in his face now, but all his lizard brain could think about was how he was going to fall flat on his fucking face, his arms frantically struggling to break free from behind his back so he could catch himself.

He couldn’t possibly be intending to…

“No teeth,” He warned, before pulling Frank down onto his cock by the chairposts, driving him down until he was forced to take him into his mouth. Danny sighed in relief at the warm, wet heat, guiding him down, unbothered by the choked sound of panic muffled around his cock as a particularly sharp falling sensation shot through Frank’s gut.

“Taking your choice away is the best thing that could happen to you.”

Oh, if looks could kill. Frank’s eyes were filled with hate, tears pricking at the corners as his nose finally bumped against Danny’s pelvis. The mask was looking down at him, unchanging expression mocking while he fought just to breathe, noisily and erratically shuddering through his nose, the intrusion down his throat making it feel like he was perpetually choking on top of perpetually falling.

“Now you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it, or what it means about you,” Danny continued blissfully, rocking the chair back and forth, guiding him up and down on his cock like he was nothing more than a fleshlight. Frank’s frantic heaving was starting to sound wet, snot loosening down his nose as he desperately snivelled for air.

And yet despite it all, he could still feel that dull hum in his core. Muted, slightly, by the glut of overstimulation everywhere else, but there nonetheless, and constant. Begging for just a little of that attention to be directed there.

“You can always just say it was my fault. That I made you.”

Frank could hardly track what he was saying, but that feeling in the bottom of his stomach was starting to get sharper, an urgent fullness that was becoming more and more demanding by the second.

“And you’ll never have to learn-” Danny interrupted himself with a short grunt, and Frank could feel his cock twitch in the back of his throat, “Or grow or self-reflect. Aren’t I nice?” He pulled out, and the sound Frank made as he gasped for air wasn’t pretty, snapping the thick threads of spit still connecting them.

Danny kept him suspended there, one-handedly holding up the chair while the other lowered to pump at his spit drenched erection. “Thank me.” He growled.

“F-fuck you.” Frank managed to choke out, feeling pretty proud of himself until warmth splattered across his face, and hot mortification rushed to the surface. But apparently not even the embarrassment of Danny cumming on his face was enough to tamp down his want, arousal flaring parallel.

“Hm.”

Suddenly he was thrown back, chair clattering and pain shooting through his arms as he collided with the floor.

“Surprise,” Danny’s voice floated down to him, colder than he’d ever heard it as Frank’s vision struggled to come together in one picture.

Two Danny’s hovering over him. Two knives glinting menacingly in the unnaturally red light of the basement.

“Maybe you should have thanked me.” 🖤  🖤 🖤

Thank you for reading!!!

🖤  🖤 🖤  

Notes:

For Pugge, without whom, the DBB server - and this fic - would probably not exist. 💖

Thank you to Rea for being my beta for this one, and the whole DBB server for encouraging this humble degen 🥺 Update: OMG thank you to @ApolloPale for taking inspiration from dis humble oneshot and drawing this piece! Which is now the Header!

This piece was written for Day 3, 17, and 24 of the 🔞 Dead by Baelight 🔞 Discord server’s Kinktober. Anyone over 18 is welcome to join here.

[bumbleb-tch]

Fic Masterlist

Series:

Leather and Lace-  Rating: T Word Count: 7,849 Summary: Adrienette, No Magic Au, Tattoo Parlour/Flower Shop AU, 2 works Nearly every day, Marinette left her shop for what he assumed was her lunch break just after Adrien opened, the first few times he saw her were coincidence, but every time she passed she never failed to aim a cheerful wave and smile in his direction-and stop to flirt with Plagg. Without even really noticing it, Adrien stopped taking clients right when he opened, and started getting ready earlier, just so he could make sure he was casually lounging in his lobby when Marinette passed every day. Pathetic? Maybe. Chloe certainly thought so. This had continued for months now, and Adrien still couldn’t pull himself together enough to actually go talk to her, but honestly, the glowing smile she gave him every day through the window was the highlight of his day. Of course, the following minutes where she talked with his cat and showered the goblin with attention was the most irritating part of his day.

A Drunk Chat’s Words- Rating: M Word Count: 6,325 Summary: Marichat, Drunk!Chat Noir/Hungover!Chat Noir, 2 works “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever been blessed to lay my eyes upon,” the voice was cooing, a bit unsteadily, if she was honest, not that it soothed her nerves that much. “Just a perfect little kitty, aren’t you? You’re so good. Your tiny paws? Spectacular. Your adorably pink nose? 10/10 would boop…” The voice continued but Marinette stopped focusing on the words, too focused on the suspiciously familiar cadence prompting her to creep back into the living room, where she was greeted by the sight of her superhero partner crouched on all fours on her balcony. Worst of all, he seemed to be engaged in a rather emotional discussion with her cat. 

Multichapter: 

Just a Shadow of Myself- Rating: T Word Count: 13528 Summary: Marichat, Adrienette, Ladrien, Ladynoir, Soulmate AU, Shadow Swap 23:55 p.m. Five more minutes until Marinette’s 16th birthday chimed. If she was lucky enough to be the younger half of her soulmate pair then her shadow would switch with her soulmate’s until they met, and slowly fade back to her own over time. The way she figured, with all of Ladybug’s luck she would be the younger one, which meant in five minutes she’d be on the start of her journey towards her soulmate. 

Oneshots:

Resonance- Rating:T Word Count: 1495 Summary: Ladynoir, Soul Eater AU If someone had told her a few months ago that she’d be moonlighting as a superhero meister with an overly flirtatious tomcat as her partner, trying to take down what could only be called a supervillain-who despite having failed to defeat them 78 out of 78 times, apparently was so consumed by his own hubris and self confidence that he refused to back down- Ladybug would laughed until she cried. But here she was, 14 year reigning champ of the clumsiest girl alive, going toe to toe with a terrorist on the biweekly, resonating with her partner to a mind blowing magnitude. Ladybug’s belief was that the Miraculous amplified both their ability to resonate, as well as the power of their individual souls. Chat liked to insist that it was because they were partners, destined to be a perfect match-infuriatingly charismatic, as always. Tikki had suggested it might be some of both. In any case, Ladybug didn’t know if she could ever have another partnership compare to this one.

Excuse me, sir- Is this your cat?-

Rating: G Word Count: 1875 Summary: Adrienette, No Magic AU, Cat!Plagg, Dog!Tikki Marinette ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation, making direct, challenging eye contact with him. Seconds passed in silence. She blinked first. The cat seemed smug. Or as smug as a cat who theoretically didn't have more cognitive understanding than a three year old could. Stomping her foot in an indignant and almost childish manner, Marinette scowled, “Look Mr. Noir,��� she didn’t think he liked the name very much but she couldn’t just call him Cat, “We need to go to the pet store to try and find your owner.”

The Trials and Tribulations of Adrien Agreste, RA Extraordinaire- Rating: T Word Count: 1595 Summary: Adrienette, College AU, No Magic AU Adrien was beginning to regret his decision to spend the day walking the dorm and introducing himself to as many residents as possible. It had seemed like such a solid plan when he’d finished moving in early and found himself with nothing to do. He was the new RA and he’d felt it would be good to have as many residents know him and what he looks like as soon as possible. Oh how wrong he had been. 2 floors, 3 hours, and 14 phone numbers later, he still had another 2 floors to go, and if Adrien heard one more too high squeal about how glad someone was that such a nice sweet guy like him was the new RA, he would dive out the nearest window.

I just came here for the drugs (so stop your faking)- Rating: T Word Count: 4951 Summary: Adrienette, Sick!Drugged!Adrien “Hey, can you hold this?” Adrien asked, passing her his bag before she could respond. While she held it, blinking vacantly, he dug inside until he unearthed a massive bottle of Nyquil. He set the bottle on the desk and reclaimed his bag, tucking it away before fiddling with the cap of the bottle. Seconds passed as he struggled, seemingly unperturbed by his lack of success. All the while, Marinette was beginning to twitch with the effort to not do it for him. Just as she was about to snatch it from him, the cap came off and he hummed victoriously. Then Adrien lifted the bottle to his lips and tipped it back, chugging long enough to make her concerned. “I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to take it,” Marinette breathed, not sure what else to say when he’d just taken a quarter of a bottle of Nyquil like he was hoping he wouldn’t wake up ever again. --- Adrien has the sniffles and makes the incorrect assumption that tripling his dose of Nyquil will triple the effects. It doesn't. Oh, and he and Marinette are supposed to be doing a project together.

WIPs: 

3 is a Magic Number- Rating: T Word Count: 3818 Summary: Ladynoir, Adrienette, Polyfic (but it’s a surprise), Soulmate AU, Red Strings of Fate AU, 1/2 Chapters She took a deep breath and forced her eyes open, first noting Chat frozen in front of her and then quickly turning to her notes to scribble down what she’d noticed so far. Marinette’s fingers tingled with restless energy, and she underscored ‘possible addictive properties’. “Chat? Status update.” The boy sputtered to life behind her, stammering a series of disjointed not-quite-words and landing on, “Uh, this?” Marinette rolled her eyes, “Ten points to Hufflepuff for clarity and precision,” She reached up to brush away her bangs with her other hand, something red drifting into her periphery. “What the hell?” Shooting up, she spun to face her partner, holding her hand up in front of her face. Two neat bows of red string were tied around her pinky, loose ends from each drifting down and away from her. One spanned the short distance between herself and Chat, nearly taut and almost glowing, a low hum emanating from it. The other tumbled to the floor, loops tangling with another string that she chased back up to Chat’s finger, the pair stretching out the window and into Paris. --- Alternatively, a day testing recipes from the grimoire takes a sharp twist of fate

Smoke and Mirrors- Rating: M Word Count: 14385 Summary: Marichat, Ladynoir, Double Akumatization, 9/? Chapters White glinted in the light cast by the door, and Marinette's blue eyes met a colder but equally anxious gaze. Her blood froze in her veins, a strangled whimper escaped her throat unbidden as she was thrust full force into the memory of the last time she'd seen those eyes. Of a broken lonely boy in an empty world and feeling herself dissolve into ash and slip between her own fingers. A fear stronger than any she'd felt facing an akuma clutched her heart in it's grasp, and Marinette realized her cheeks were wet.

love is a bloom, nurtured by my tears(and choked by my sorrows)- Rating: M Word Count: 20051 Summary: Marichat, Coffee Shop AU, Kwamiswap, 5/? Chapters Marinette loved her partner, no question. But at some point in six years, she’d stopped feeling it. She’d stopped feeling anything. And she called love a scam enough times that she actually believed it. So every night, patrol or not, Marinette would go to bed by 1:00 a.m., to get enough sleep for the next day. Every day of her life, she’d scheduled down to the minute. An endless routine that she lived for years, carefully designed to make sure that her life was so full of work and responsibilities and alarms, that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t notice how empty it was. 

[enchantedlokii]

Peppermint

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: near-death experience, anaphylaxis, language

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, FRIDAY

Mentioned: Happy Hogan, May Parker

Peter was never quiet. The hyper teenager was always bouncing around, babbling about his day or an idea he had. So when the boy came in and silently threw away his empty cup, Tony knew something wasn’t right. At first he assumed that he was upset over something, but then he noticed the red tint to his cheeks and knew that the kid must be sick.

“Hey, Kiddo,” he stepped over and put an arm around the boy, surprised when he noticed that Peter was shaking a bit. Not only that, but he seemed winded, a slight wheeze coming with his slowed breaths. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I actually feel really sick, Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted, leaning against him a bit. “I was feeling fine this morning. I don’t know what’s wrong. I didn’t think I could even get sick.”

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Tony led Peter over to the couch, worried by his slow movements and the way he stumbled a bit, grasping Tony’s arm for balance and closing his eyes for a moment. “Talk to me, Pete. What’s wrong?”

“My throat hurts,” Peter murmured, his voice starting to sound scratchy. “And my chest. And my head. Everything hurts, Mr. Stark.”

“Okay, okay, hey, don’t panic,” Tony noticed that Peter was taking sharper breaths now, the wheezing becoming more prominent. “Just breathe, Kiddo. When did you start feeling bad?”

Peter seemed to think for a moment, glancing towards the empty cup he had thrown in the trash. “After I started my smoothie,” he told him. His eyes widened a bit as he came to a realization. “Oh no.”

“What? What is it?” Tony asked. He didn’t look up as he heard footsteps in the doorway. Something was wrong with Peter, and that was more important than whatever whoever was there needed.

“Peppermint,” Peter told him, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Peppermint. Spiders don’t like peppermint.”

That’s when it clicked. “Sh*t, Peter,” he huffed, trying to keep the panic from setting in. He raised his head now and turned to look at whoever had come in; Clint and Natasha. Good. “One of you run and get two EpiPens from the medbay and one of you find Bruce.”

He didn’t wait for a response before turning back to Peter. They had argued in the past, but he knew that neither of them would deny helping someone who needed them. Especially not when that someone was Peter. They loved him — all the Avengers did. “It’s going to be okay, Kiddo. I promise.”

Peter shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came was a wheeze. His eyes were pleading now as he looked at Tony, silently begging him to help. And he desperately wanted to help, but he didn’t know what to do. He had to wait for Clint or Natasha to get back with the EpiPens and pray that the boy wouldn’t stop breathing.

He saw tears in the boy’s eyes and pulled him close. He found himself pushing his finger’s against Peter’s wrist and counting the faint heartbeat in an attempt to calm himself. His heart was still beating. He was still alive. He wasn’t going to die.

But Peter was getting weaker every minute. He started to collapse against Tony, and when the man looked down he saw that the teenager’s mouth was gaping now, desperately trying to pull in air but not managing to get any. His lips were paling and his eyes were starting to droop. “No, no. Stay with me, Pete,” he said quickly. He could hear the panic in his own voice. Because he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer without help. “FRIDAY, where are they?”

“I’m here!”

Tony looked up at Clint, silently pleading as he watched him shaking the EpiPen and snapping off the cap. “Sorry, Peter. This is going to hurt a bit,” he said quickly, pressing a hand against Peter’s hip before stabbing the needle into his thigh. Peter didn’t react, still struggling to try to take even a small breath. His lips had a blue tinge now, and he was constantly blinking in an effort to stay awake.

“Just a little bit longer,” Tony told him. “Come on, Pete. Come on. Breathe for us.”

“Should I get another ready?” Clint asked, already pulling a second shot out of his pocket. In his eyes, he seemed torn between giving the boy another dose and waiting another minute to see if it kicked in.

Before Tony had a chance to reply, the silence broke and Peter wheezed weakly, managing time take in a small breath. Then he took another, slightly stronger. He shook his head, probably trying to wake himself more.

“There you go. That’s it.” Tony pulled Peter close again, rubbing his back. He hoped that it would help him regain control of his breathing. He was aware that his voice was breaking, but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was Peter. Because he had to be okay. “That’s it, Pete. Keep breathing.”

The color started to come back to Peter’s lips as he started to take stronger breaths. His cheeks were still flushed, but the pain was fading from his eyes, replaced with pure exhaustion. Then they flashed with recognition and fear and started to swell with tears. “T-Tony. . .”

“Shh, save your strength, Pete,” he whispered, pulling Peter closer and cradling his head. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

He silently hoped that Peter was too out of it to hear his rapid heartbeat. Now that it was okay — now that Peter was okay — he realized just how terrified he actually was. Even though he kept telling himself he wasn’t going to die, he knew that truthfully Peter had just almost died. Peter knew it, too, based on how upset he was. It was too close. Way too close.

“Oh, thank God.” Tony looked up as he heard Bruce. He was winded from obviously running to them. “He’s okay.”

Tony just nodded in reply, pressing his face into Peter’s hair. The boy was still crying, but that was okay. He was breathing again. His heart was still beating — much faster than it should be, but he knew that was from the epinephrine. “It’s okay, Pete. You’re okay.”

“Hey, Peter?” Bruce came over and crouched down beside them, rubbing the boy’s leg. “I want to get you up to the medbay and keep an eye on you for a few hours, okay?”

Peter shook his head and pressed closer to Tony, his trembling fingers grasping his shirt. “It’s okay, I’m coming with you,” Tony murmured, stroking his curls. “I’ll even carry you up, alright?”

Peter just whimpered in reply, still crying. It broke Tony’s heart, but he tried to again focus on the fact that he was alive and breathing. He could handle crying. He couldn’t handle losing him. So he carefully maneuvered himself to the edge of the couch, carefully lifting the surprisingly light teenager.

“FRIDAY, care to have Happy call May and let her know what’s going on?” he asked as they walked towards the elevator. “Actually, have him go pick her up. Don’t need her driving while she’s upset.”

“Will do, Boss,” FRIDAY replied.

“Great,” he replied, pressing his face into Peter’s hair again. “Let’s get you fixed up, Buddy.”

The first thing Peter noticed when he woke up was the annoying beeping of a heart monitor. The rhythm was steady, not too fast or too slow. If it was an actual heartbeat he was hearing, he might find it comforting, but it was instead a high-pitched beep that hurt his sensitive ears. Then, he realized it was his heartbeat that lined up with the monitor.

Peter scrunched up his face, noticing that a cannula was pushed up his nose, helping him breathe. There was an IV in his right arm, pumping fluids into him. His thigh was sore, but his chest and throat ached more than anything.

He groaned softly, moving his head sideways and letting his eyes open slightly. The lights were dimmed, thank God, and he was able to make out the familiar medbay. He was safe.

That’s when everything came back to him. Peter had bought a peppermint smoothie after school. He had been thirsty, and it was hot outside. It wasn’t until he felt his throat starting to close off that it hit him that he was most likely allergic to peppermint now. Unfortunately, that most likely was a certainty. He had panicked, searching Tony’s eyes for some sort of hope that he would be okay, but he could see the fear in his eyes that didn’t fade even after Clint stabbed in him in the leg with an EpiPen and he managed to refill his lungs a few minutes later.

And Peter had cried. He had cried and clung to Tony like his life depended on it. Because he had just barely escaped death, and he wasn’t ready to die yet. He didn’t want to leave. Not when he had barely lived. And he definitely didn’t want to die from an accident that could have been avoided if he hadn’t been so ignorant. And after the incident, he realized, he didn’t want to die in front of Tony. Because the man’s panic showed him that he would have been a mess if they hadn’t managed to pull Peter away from his near-death.

Peter didn’t realize that his eyes were filling with tears again until he looked up at the sound of someone coming in and realized that his vision was blurred. “Oh, Pete. Hey, it’s okay.” Peter sniffled as Tony came over and combed his fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.”

“I-I almost died,” he breathed.

“But you didn’t,” Tony whispered. Peter was surprised when the man bent over and kissed his forehead. “You scared me, Kiddo.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmured, his voice breaking. He felt arms wrapping around him and squeezing him tight. “I-I should have realized.”

“Shh,” Tony hushed him. “I’m just glad you���re okay. That’s all that matters, alright? That, and peppermint is now forbidden in any Avengers facility. Period. If anyone so much as brings a peppermint scented candle in this building I will blast it with a repulsor.”

Peter managed a small chuckle, feeling Tony smile above him. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. I-I’m sorry that I was clingy afterwards. I. . . I was kinda terrified.”

“It’s alright, Pete. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t want to let go either. Not sure how much you remember, but Nat practically had to peel you away from me for Bruce to look at you.”

Peter smiled a bit and pressed his face against Tony’s shoulder. “I-I need to thank them too,” he murmured. “And Clint. For, um, stabbing me to life?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

The two jumped at the voice, pulling apart. Tony rolled his eyes, looking up at the vent on the wall. Clint waved through the bars, causing Peter to chuckle. “Thanks, Clint,” he said quietly. His throat still itched and he was tired beyond belief, and he silently hoped that the man had his hearing aids turned up enough to hear him.

His hopes were answered when the man opened the vent and jumped down. “Of course,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m with Stark; just glad that you’re okay. And sorry if it hurt. I know it was necessary but I still feel kinda guilty for it.”

“It’s okay,” Peter promised. He shifted in his bed and opened his arms. Clint smiled and came forward to hug him. His hug was gentler and shorter than Tony’s, but just as caring.

“Does Aunt May know?” he asked as Clint pulled away.

“She just left for work, actually,” Tony told him. “I can call her and ask her to come back if you want. I already planned on pulling some strings for her to get the night off, but you know how she is.”

“Could I just call her and let her know I’m okay? So she doesn’t worry?” Peter asked. He reached to try to find his phone only to realize he was in a gown rather than his normal clothes.

“Sure. FRIDAY has her number on file. You want us to step out?” Tony asked, rubbing Peter’s arm gently.

“No, you can stay,” Peter told him. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“Call May Parker, please.”

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [WATTPAD]

Sorry about the long delay in updates. My life's been a bit up and down of late; good things and bad. Hopefully things will settle soon. Either way, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

CHAPTER NINE

This was definitely a new one on Rise Kujikawa. She felt like the world had turned upside down — again — and she was supposed to navigate her way without a map or a compass. Where to begin?

"What… are you- oh come on, liking girls doesn't make you a boy. Has that really been worrying you all this time?"

Ai blinked across at her for a few seconds. "What? Oh, yes, but… Rise-chan, I'm trying to tell you something pretty major. Aren't you paying attention?"

"Come on, you're not a boy! Regardless of why you think you are, so like, you can cut that out right now. Okay?" She reached over to take up her hand and squeeze it firmly between both of her own, trying to ignore the way Ai whimpered. "We're friends. If you never want to kiss me again, that's okay, but just wanting to kiss me a couple times? Does not mean you're a boy, or messed up, or me and you have to move to Ni-Chome, or anything. It's all good."

Ebihara remained quiet for a second, simply holding her friend's hand. Looking more than a little lost. "Well, Ni-Chome is right around the corner from here… and that's where… people like us go. Right?"

"Hey! There's no 'people like us', we're just people!"

"Ugh, I know," she burst out in irritation at herself, suddenly standing up and pacing back and forth in front of Rise. "I know! It's so stupid that I get in my own head about this, but I can't just enjoy anything. Why am I like this? Do I have no chill?!"

"Guess not." When Ai stopped to glare at her, she rolled her eyes. "Well, you really don't! I'm not saying it's bad or you're bad, but you do need to learn how to relax."

But she kept pacing. Rise had just about given up and assumed that was the end of the discussion, and that she should go back to trying to find another song to sing — when Ai suddenly knelt down in front of her, hands gripping the sofa on either side of the idol's hips.

"Wha- hey, what are you doing?!"

"Getting your attention, girl. I need you to really hear me."

"God, I hear you just fine! We just got done agreeing you don't need to make a big deal out of every-"

"My birth name was Aihiko," she pushed ahead stubbornly, such a fierce determination in her eyes that Rise had to fight down the instinct to cower. Even drunk, she could be a real force of nature. "And I always knew that didn't fit me. It just took me until really late in elementary school before I figured out why.

"What I told you and the others before was true. I was always bullied, always called 'Piggy-hara' because I was fat. Because I didn't fit in, anywhere. No matter how many times I looked at the sports clubs, at the manly men I was supposed to look up to, my parents told me I would become someday… I didn't want to. I wanted to be Taeko Ohnuki, or Utada — I wanted to be Sailor Moon. All the other boys would fight over being Red Hawk when we played Featherman; I was too happy to be Pink Argus, when nobody else would want to touch that character unless we were playing with another girl. My whole life, I knew… I just didn't have a word for it. Not until… Ikko."

When she didn't continue for a moment, Rise cleared her throat to prompt quietly, "Ikko?"

"The talk show host. Trans and fabulous. I could see right there on my television screen, in front of my crying eyes thanks to another day of bullying and shame, a woman who was born like me — living her truth, live and in colour in front of the whole country. And sure, those talk shows are a little corny, but to me, as a little boy who thought he was just going to be broken for the rest of his life? They looked like hope."

"Oh… Ikko, yeah. Think I've seen her on Shin Domoto Kyoudai, and um, Onee MANS. Yeah." Rise was struggling to keep up mentally. She felt like any second now, the whole thing was going to come crashing down around her ears…

"Believe me, I know this is a lot to take in," she said with a sigh, brow creasing in concern for her friend. Which Rise thought was encouraging. "But once I realized who and what I was, and we were now suddenly filthy fucking rich, I asked my parents to help me be who I always was. Ironic that my mother was against it and my father was only too happy to help, but I mean, life is weird. And I have never really looked back… until now. With you."

"With me? Wait, wait… I feel like I'm losing my mind a little bit here. Do I have this right? You were born as a boy — which there's no way I can believe, just look at you! But because of some talk show host, and a bunch of mean kids who were jerks to you, you decided you didn't want to be a boy anymore?"

Ai grimaced. "That is… an oversimplification, but essentially, yes."

"And now you think you made the wrong choice because…" A hard swallow. "Me. Because you like me." Ai gave a small nod. "Whoa."

"You don't believe me." Her head fell forward until it was resting on Rise's shoulder. Now that they were so close, she could feel how badly her friend was trembling. "I should have known. Stupid. Why do I always think I know better, and things will go differently? Do I have brain damage? Maybe that's it, maybe it's brain damage and I need to be admitted to some kind of facility with padded walls and electroshock."

"Shut up already, wow…" Her hand came up to gently caress over Ai's hair. "Listen... It's not that I want to be skeptical. I can tell you aren't just screwing around, but come on, how do you expect me to believe any of this? You are gorgeous! And Ikko, she's also really pretty but I can tell she was born a boy. You? No way. It's just too crazy to be possible — and if you only knew some of the things I've seen, you would know I don't say that for no reason!"

Ai nodded glumly. Defeated. That was really the only word for it, and Rise felt awful, but she also couldn't flick a switch and suddenly not have that healthy dose of skepticism. Who would believe a story like this right out of the gate with absolutely zero proof right in front of their eyes?

"Sorry," Rise finally whispered in a small voice.

"Why? Nothing to be sorry about. In fact, I know you won't get it, but you really helped me today."

"Huh? How did I do that? By not believing you?!"

"Exactly." Standing up again, she brushed off the front of her long skirt studiously. "If it's so inconceivable to you that I could have been a boy in a past life, then I guess that means I'm not crazy for pursuing my dream — living life as who I am inside. So I guess… thank you."

That sinking feeling swirling around in Rise's stomach was getting stronger. Maybe Ai wasn't kidding. But that was insane! Sure, Naoto had been able to hide her gender for a little while, but it wasn't as easy going in the other direction. If Ai were a boy in disguise, she would be doing things to hide certain aspects of her anatomy. Such as…

Such as a frilly lace collar around her neck. At all times.

"Is… what's… under here…?"

Her fingers barely came in contact with the collar when Ebihara took a step backwards — and literally tripped over the coffee table, sprawling on her back on the carpet with a ghastly yelp. Rise hurried around to crouch over her.

"I'm sorry! God, I'm really sorry, are you all right?!"

"Y-yeah," she groaned, even though she was holding her head, which indicated that no, she probably wasn't.

"I just wanted to ask about that collar," Rise said while helping her sit up. "But I didn't mean to scare you, I probably should have asked before I reached for it."

"Yeah, you should have. But it's no big deal." The phone buzzed again. "Ugh. It's getting late, we probably shouldn't ask for more time. This way we can maybe slip back in before final period and avoid catching hell."

"Hah! No way can we make it back in time, I really don't think so. But keep dreaming."

"Always," Ai offered with a slight smirk.

                                      ~ o ~

But as her friend answered the phone and she started gathering up their things, Rise's brain was swirling with far too many thoughts. They followed her out of the karaoke establishment and all the way back to the train platform, into the car itself. At least it wasn't as crowded as it would be if they caught a later train, even though they still had a good hour and a half left in their trip. Her poor young mind was plagued by a thousand questions, anxieties, and just random thoughts that were so unwelcome but wouldn't seem to go away for anything.

Could all that craziness actually be true? No. It was so impossible and ludicrous. Yet Ai had said every word with conviction, and no trace of uncertainty. Either this was one of the most convincing scams of all time, or…

Could she really be a boy?

Just glancing over at the flawlessly beautiful profile of Ai Ebihara was seemingly enough to put that possibility to death. Impossible. Even though Rise knew that there were women out there who had been born different, and she very vaguely understood the concept, she didn't know any of them personally. Any she had seen in popular media were various degrees of feminine and pretty, but still obviously not born the way she was; there were readily apparent differences. None of which she observed when looking at her new best friend. How was she supposed to believe such a wild story?

But she couldn't completely let go of how earnestly Ai had looked at her when confessing about her alleged condition. If she really were full of shit, she probably would have never tried to sell it so hard; what did she have to gain by it? Anything? Not as far as she could tell, no matter how she tried to look at it. There was no impetus for her to make up such a wild tale.

So then… crazy as it was, if she had nothing to gain by lying…

'No way, though!' she screamed internally, clamping her eyes shut for a moment as the train bumped along toward Yasoinaba. 'She's so perfect, she's prettier than me. Why is she doing this to me? Why lie? I don't know what to think anymore!'

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand slipping into her own. Rise peeled open her eyes to see her friend, this beautiful woman who she was suspecting of horrible lies, smiling gently over at her with a concerned expression. Her heart melted. It didn't clear up any confusion at all, but she couldn't pretend this girl was being cruel to her for no reason. Not when she looked at her like that.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah! Great! Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I'm a horrible bitch for dropping a bombshell on you," Ai supplied quietly. "You should be pissed."

"Nope. I mean… okay, I do have a question." When there was no reply, Rise continued, "Why didn't you just show me?"

"Show you what?

"You know…"

Ai blinked at her friend's reddening features for a couple of seconds until she got it, and her lip curled. "Oh, what the fuck? You want me to just flash you?!"

"NO!" A few people turned to look at the two of them, and she double-checked that her hat was hiding her trademark hair again. "Not here! And I didn't say I wanted you to, I'm just, y'know… wouldn't that have been the easiest way? To prove what you were telling me?"

"Yeah, I guess so, but that seems really gross. Besides…"

When she didn't finish her thought, Rise nudged her with her elbow. "Hey, c'mon, don't chicken out now. We literally just made out so I don't think there's any reason to be shy anymore."

"I mean, okay, but it's not about feeling shy. I was going to say I had hoped you would believe me."

Damn. That really cut her to the core. But she couldn't even get upset about it, because as Ai said, she hadn't been holding back because she was shy. Obviously, she wasn't sure it was kind of her to issue a pseudo accusation like that. Her own fault for digging.

"Y-yeah. I can see why you would think that, but I mean, I've just never thought about anything like this before. It doesn't have anything to do with you! Yukiko or Chie could tell me the same exact thing and I would be just as skeptical. Does… I mean, do you hate me?"

"No," Ai whispered with quiet urgency, gripping her hand tighter. And Rise gripped back; she needed the comfort, and wanted her bestie to know that none of this meant she was going anywhere.

"You're sure?"

"Really, really sure. I'm sad you didn't believe me but I can't deny you have a point; as great as it is to know I look good enough to pass even when I'm telling you about it point-blank — seriously it's a huge relief, you will never know — I guess this is the one downside."

Rise tipped to the side until her head was resting on Ai's shoulder. She still felt dizzy. This was a nightmare and a dream, and she just wanted to go back to yesterday. Before she had been told impossible things that had to be true, because it was actually stranger that they be lies. It was like some kind of…

Magic.

"I'm being stupid," she finally breathed aloud as the revelation hit her like a bolt out of the blue. How could she have been looking at this so backwards?!

"What?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "Just… I've seen some pretty crazy stuff in my life. You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Ai definitely wouldn't believe her. "And I'm sitting here, thinking it's too weird that you might have been born a boy? That's so dumb!"

Clearly taking that in a slightly different manner, her friend chuckled and said, "There you go. I mean, you were in the entertainment industry."

"It's not like it is in the west, Ebi-chan. Like… a little, but when I toured the U.S.? Lots of people like that, all the makeup artists, and… you know, that Lady Gaga?" Ai shook her head. "She's really big over there, I have one of her albums somewhere."

"Bring it over, then. I mean, if she's queer, I want to hear her."

"Well, I don't know she is, but she has this whole… you know, dressing like a drag queen, big feathers and meat dresses! Crazy stuff!" They both laughed together, relaxing into the closeness. Like it should be.

"Either way, bring it," Ai said, interrupting her weird stomach-upside-down moment of realising what she had just been thinking. "I mean, don't expect me to choose her over Mariya, but…"

Rise giggled and whispered, "Or me. Because you're not a fan of my trash music."

"HEY! Shut the fuck up, I never said- UGH, you are a pain in the ASS." An airy sigh as she kissed the top of Rise's head. "You're lucky you're so cute."

Full blush. Rise was glad for her sunglasses and hat or she would have died of embarrassment. Biting her lip, she reached up to pull Ai closer, almost snuggling into her as best she could on the uncomfortable train seats. All she wanted was for the world to fall away, leaving them to revel in the escape from their reality. Their escape into each other.

"I'm scared."

"Me too."

"Really?" Rise whispered. "I'm… I don't even know… what to think. Are we lesbians? Or, because you were a boy, is it just…"

"Honestly? I don't know, either. That's why I was freaking out earlier. But now, I…" She cleared her throat and said, almost fearfully, "I think 'lesbian' could be the right word. Though I did really like Yu… ugh, I'm a lost cause."

"No," she snapped at her, looking up into her eyes. "Hey. You're the number one hottie of Yasogami High. Everybody says so."

"They say I'm a bitch, too."

"So? You've earned being a little bit of a bitch for a while. But I do think it's time to put the bitchy-pants away and start being Ai Ebihara again. Or, um…" Then she laughed in embarrassment.

"What?" she asked, brow furrowed in preemptive fear.

"I forgot already. Your real name; you told me, I just… you're Ebi-chan, I can't remember it."

"Oh. Well, it doesn't matter, because that's not really me anymore. Like you with 'Risette'; you cringe every time anyone says it. Even just now."

"Huh?! No, I didn't!"

"You��so did, Rise-cheese."

The pop star puffed out her cheeks angrily as she glared up at her best friend. Then she pouted extra hard. "You can't make fun of me. It's mean."

"Thought you said I earned the right to be a bitch," Ai teased with a half-smirk.

"Not to ME! And I also said you can stop now! Hmph." Then she turned away from her, folding her arms over her chest as she glared away into the compartment.

"Oh wow, dramatic." But when Rise didn't turn back after a minute, she grabbed her upper arm and shook it slightly. "Come on… you can't really be this mad." More silence. A little desperation began to enter Ai's voice. "Rise… wait, wait, you're pissed off because I called you 'cheese'?!"

"I'm not cheese." But she did peek over her shoulder, and saw Ai looking legitimately conflicted. So she laughed awkwardly and turned back around, raising a hand to smooth over her hair. "Sorry… hey, I'm sorry. I was just messing around."

Ai dipped her head, expression just as conflicted as before. "This… is hard. Wow. I knew it was dumb, and you were being dumb, and I wanted to give you more shit, but my heart just started hurting, and…"

That was quite a wealth of feelings. Rise felt a little worried; would Ai really be able to handle what they were getting themselves into? Would either of them? Unable to hold back anymore, she threw her arms around her and pulled her in for the tightest hug she could manage.

"Ebi-chan… we'll be fine. Don't be so down, don't… don't lose track of what's good between us. How we fit together."

"Yeah?" she asked shakily. "You mean, how we have nothing in common, and didn't know each other before the past few weeks, a-and… and why would you even like me?"

"We have a lot in common. We like singing, and daifuku, and Korean dramas. And we both know what it's like for people not to be able to see you for who you really are; to make a lot of assumptions about you based on your appearance." Her brow furrowed, even while she was speaking. "Oh… and I guess that was even worse for you when you were a kid, huh? If you were a boy… and you felt like a girl inside… is… I mean, did I say that right? Do I know what I'm talking about?"

The softest chuckle floated out of Ai's lips as she pushed her face against Rise's neck. The nose and lips felt warm, and soft, and a little moist where she was speaking against her skin… creating goosebumps in the wake of the breath. "You're saying everything right. You always do. Probably an idol superpower."

"Maybe," she admitted with a light laugh, some of her anxiety beginning to melt away. "But I promise I'll only use it for good. I'll do my best!"

"God, you can't even turn it off. So gross!"

"You don't have to call me 'gross'! That's not nice!"

"Hey, I'm totally nice. What would you do without me being so 'nice' you want to punch a baby?"

When Rise pulled back, the most horrified expression on her face at that last bit of imagery, Ai burst out laughing so hard that she had to double over, arms wrapped around her middle. The mirth was catching; Rise giggled until she snorted like a pig, then was covering her face with both hands in shame while her supposed best friend guffawed openly at her. And she wouldn't have had it any other way, mortifying as it was. At least it meant the worst was over.

Wasn't it?

                                       To Be Continued…

[nofive]

Five’s Powers

Two notes, this will obviously be altered as time goes on and Season 3 hopefully expands on Five’s powers in canon. For now most of this is what is known in canon and my own thoughts and ideas on his powers. Second, this will touch on parts of Five’s powers that he cannot yet access but is able to and will be able to one day.

Five’s powers in their briefest explanations are explained as teleportation, his spatial jumps, and chronokinesis, his time travel powers and what belongs in that basket of time powers.

Before I get into the nitty gritty of Five’s powers, I want to discuss some of the more boring elements of his powers meaning what he must do, the equations, and the effects his powers can and do have on him. Then I will go into the details of each of his main powers.

The Foundations of His Powers

Five’s powers are energy based, and equation influenced. His powers do not require either of these, but both are enormously helpful in the mastery of his powers.

There are multiple forms of teleportation powers that involve both time and space. Five’s have quite a few things involved the most obvious is the mathematical equations. But in addition to this Five also pulls at the threads of space and time to create his portals to go from place to place. The equations are used to help him map where he can land if he cannot see where he is jumping and how far he is jumping. The math lessens the chance that he will end up in a wall.

His powers also require energy. Energy however is not necessary for his powers to work, and his powers can malfunction even if he has energy, see side effects below. His powers require food to be lasting and work longer. He can jump without energy, but it is harder and it knocks him out until he recover. Because of this he has a very high metabolism and often needs copious amounts of food to compensate for it. It is something that I headcanon he shares with Luther who I also headcanon as his twin. I go into more detail about this in my headcanon about Five and food.

His powers also work partially off adrenaline. If he is panicking that is an automatic stop, however if he has truly exerted himself which is a very rare occurrence because of Reginald’s training he can work off pure adrenaline. His first three time jumps in the series from Fall to Summer, to Winter, to that apocalyptic Spring are done on pure adrenaline particular the summer to winter jump, and the winter to spring jump. However he then panics upon his surroundings causing him to be unable to jump.

Side Effects

Side effects of his powers include enhanced vision, but not like x-ray vision or anything of that sort. No Five can see the fabric of time and space and it exists in his peripherals as blue threads. It is what he physically pulls at when he Blinks or jumps. It is one of the main reasons behind his concentrated face when he jumps.

When it comes to medicine, modern medicine does not work on Five. In the sense that pain killers do absolutely nothing for him. His metabolism burns it up before any effect can be had. It does not matter the dose, because when his metabolism can’t work fast enough to correct, his body creates a jump to correct the foreign invader if that makes sense. This is also the reason Five rarely gets sick. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for wounds, and bullet wounds and shrapnel wounds or any type of wound. His body works more on a molecular level, he would have to physically Blink himself away from the object to get it out which when he is injured is far too taxing on him and his body.

Five heals fairly quickly, which is a trait I do headcanon he and Luther to share. However the caveat for Five is that unless his adrenaline is pumping, the wound cannot itself be infected or let to fester. He actually has to help it along. The bullet graze on his arm heals much faster than the shrapnel wound for example.

Five’s powers like Vanya’s powers (at least) are in part affected by his emotions. As stated above, Five does not necessarily need food to help his abilities though it does make him stronger, however his abilities will fail him if he feels any sort of panic. We see this happen throughout the series in the Apocalypse, in Gimbles, at the Consulate party, Running with Diego across the field. Five tends to right it off as he is out of power however with the last instance mentioned he has the power to fight Lila with full range of his power immediately after. It is not necessarily him being out of power, but panic setting in that he must first fully get over to be able to utilize his powers. In the apocalypse besides the equation being a hindrance, he is also panicking, and eventually the lack of energy makes utilizing his powers nearly impossible so he doesn’t until he is ready for that moment which doesn’t come.

Combat Skills

Five’s combat skills while not a power exactly should be talked about. His combat skills are inherently linked with his powers. We know this not just from the leaked pilot script where at a young age we know Five trained to be lethal with weapons with his blinks by Reginald. However we also know this from almost every single fight Five takes part in, most notable of these are his two fights with Lila, as well as the famous Griddy’s fight.

Five’s combat skills though are not reliant on his powers. Five is naturally a swift person, and a nimble person. Being someone who is smaller, and was one of the “weaker” siblings, and “smaller” siblings he uses his size and quickness to his advantage. Five’s quickness, allows him to give the appearance of teleportation on occasion depending on the fight. It does tend to come in handy when he is panicking and cannot access his powers, it allows him to build up adrenaline which allows him to utilize his powers again.

Teleportation - Spatial Jumps aka Blinks etc.

As stated in the foundations part of why Five can do what he can is because of mathematical equations. However, that is only part of it. Another part is the ability to see the fabric of reality more or less. He has to bend it and pull it in order to create the portal to run through. Ben has a similar power with the portal in his stomach. Five can see this portal, which leads to the possible ability to jump between dimensions though this untested, and Five much rather keep it that way as well.

The equations as stated are more of a fail safe to ensure Five wont end up in a wall, and end up where he needs if he cannot see the area. When it comes to open areas Five uses less math and more natural ability to teleport from place to place with precision.

When Five teleports he creates a small vacuum that rapidly cools him and then heats him back up, it happens in a fraction of a second, but it does leave a lasting effect on Five that he hates the cold, and in general is less tolerable of it.

Five can teleport not just himself, but people, himself and people, as well as objects. Five does not have to touch objects to teleport them, as seen in the bank robbery scene where he teleports a gun out of the robber’s hand and replaces it with a stapler. It is again seen when he teleported his tie around the neck of a hired Temps Commission worker during the Griddy’s fight. To transport a person Five must touch them to do so, this is indicated in the Board of Director’s massacre when one of the directors is launched into the ceiling, they were teleported their courtesy of Five. Additionally when transporting himself with a person he has to touch them, this is scene when he transports himself and Diego.

Transporting another person with him utilizes far more energy than just himself, and is not done as easily without math. He can do it on the fly but it will not cause the most desired affects. Additionally, whoever he teleports may feel woozy or dizzy since not only are the not used to the feeling, but it does tear you a part a bit. What this means is yes Five is partially torn apart in creating his portals, but further when he started jumping he was often nauseous and sick to his stomach which lead to the family discovering medicine does not work on him.

Five will eventually be able to teleport people without touching them, in fact the prime time for him to be able to do this is when he is physically thirty as that is when his body is at its prime and is at its strongest. Doing it before then would likely cause him to pass out for a while because Spatial jumping utilizes more energy than time jumping.

The farther away Five jumps the more energy it takes. Theoretically he can jump anywhere but it deals with his energy levels and the math to be able to do stuff. Five is much more successful with short jumps, and consecutive jumps as seen in his combat skills. Where it becomes difficult is how far he is jumping and where the math becomes impossibly difficult. He could jump to another planet or the moon, but he doesn’t have the energy or quite frankly precise enough math to do so. But just because he doesn’t, doesn’t mean he can’t.

I have made it no secret on this blog that Five does not like to be tied up, or restrained. This deals not only with Reginald’s training, but also The Commission. The thing is restraints and doors are not an obstacle for Five. However it was not always like this. Five trained incredibly hard with multiple captive situations of himself to be able to jump away and leave all types of restraints behind. As a kid Five was bad at it, and would often be left in restraints until he could Blink out of them, which lead to days without food or  water among other things.

Chronokinesis - Time Travel etc.

Five’s time travel while utilizing energy is far far more dependent on math and equations. To make actual physical jumps in time Five has to have energy to do so hence why in the apocalypse he cannot just simply make the jump even if he has the equation to do so. This also aids to why he waits even within the commission, not only is he searching for that perfect equation, but he is also trying to build energy and body mass akin to what he had before the Apocalypse.

The math that Five utilizes for time travel is also only a part of it. Like with spatial jumping, time jumping and time travel in general is partially instinct. It is why he can jump in time in the same place ( his consecutive jumps that lead to the apocalypse ), but further jump in time to a completely different place ( the Icarus Theater to Dallas Jump ). However having the math and equations greatly help him with his accuracy, like the jump from Dallas back to 2019 in season 1 ( not to be confused with the first instance of this jump in season 2, and the second jump that happened with the brief case ).

When it comes to running through time, or rewinding time, it is purely instinctual and energy based. If Five does it too much he will collapse. Unlike with his spatial jumps which fail upon panic, the ability to rewind time flourishes in this circumstance and is far easier to do when running off pure adrenaline as it is a way to get away in a way that is far more instinctual for Five, because it deals with him physically running. Five can fast forward time but he has not quite figured out how to do it. Though both fast forwarding time and rewinding time requires him to physically run.

Five’s time travel abilities like his Blinks create portals. Either he is the portal with running through time, or he creates it with his time jumps. His portals are magnetic in nature, and pull things to them like a vortex. Luther is not completely wrong in stating that Five creates a black hole, its just one that also happens to be a temporal anomaly as well.

The portals Five creates are interesting in that depending on the type of portal, and the type of jump he is making he will age down or up depending on when and how is jumping. For an actual portal such as the beginning of season 1 jump, and the end of season 1 jump he has project his consciousness forward. He also must do it for his siblings at the end of season 1, which is why he overshoots their own timeline where they would have been aged down, and ends up in the last place he was which is 1963, and not stuck. I will address him getting stuck in his young body at the end of this headcanon so hang tight. For him the portals are painful as he has to create them and go through them, for his passengers they aren’t, their landings might be, but the actual traversing through the portal is not. And the longer he has them in mind as he is going through the closer in time to him they will be upon landing which is unfortunate, but its alot to think about and even his big brain has limits.

The more practice Five has he will be able to do what the briefcases do. In fact he technically can if in the right frame of mind. Five’s running through time is more precise than it may initially seem and it helps if he has seen all the events that happen. Additionally the three consecutive time jumps in season one, were technically more of Five running through time, rather than jumps. This is because not only was he physically running, but because he did not necessarily change locations as his normal time jumps can do though that is not necessary. There was no portal in these three initial jumps. Five views them as jumps and not runs because he has been conditioned by his father in the way of a jump, rather than a run it is why the advice of “seconds” is so crucial to Five’s first true Time Run.

Five can create temporal loops, though at this point in time they are accidental and he has no control over them. Essentially sending his older self back to 2019 in the second Dallas to 2019 jump, created a temporal loop for that Five and his family.

Five also has the ability to stop time completely very similarly to what the Handler can do, presumably with a watch of hers, or some other Commission device. They could not do this before he became an agent as it is part of his power set, and it is something the found upon their experiments on him. However when Five does it everything will get more of a blue tint akin to his portals and blinks. It feels more natural as the sepia toned freeze feels very artificial. Five does not know how to do this yet, but he will eventually learn, my guess is someone at the Commission tips him off to it, perhaps Dot as a way to make it up to him. 

A very small note: Though likely an editing mistake, the day Five runs away from home he not only freezes time, but he jumps in time when he does a spatial jump from his seat next to Reginald.

Getting Stuck

For Five, getting stuck back in his younger body was inevitable. It would always happen. While it does deal partially with the math, that is not entirely what it is centered on. The key is listening to what Five says upon his return when asked what happened. “In the end I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

Five claims it was just a wrong decimal point, and in a sense he wasn’t wrong. He does tell himself the wrong decimal point, and since he knows that version of himself he’ll believe anything, that decimal point change is what leads to the temporal loop mentioned earlier.

The math mistake that Five makes is much more complicated and mainly deals with a miscalculation of himself at every possible instance of time. This is why he turns back into his smaller self. The closest his self comes to in 2019 when he returns is his thirteen year old body. His consciousness is what he is projecting from himself, not his consciousness and his body. So since a version of himself does not technically exist at the time he goes back to it choose the body closest to that time frame since Five is not considering his current body something he must also project.

Had Five been going back to closer when he left the same result wouldn’t occur because he has already been removed from that portion of the timeline. Its a paradox get over it. As the 10th doctor says its all wibbly wobbly timey wimey. However if Five was going to go back to before he left, he would revert back to his thirteen year old body, and have to deal with a doppleganger UNLESS he did the math correctly and just overwrote the existing Five of that time with himself.

Five was always going to get stuck in his body because a flaw of his is refusing to account for himself in his equations.

The same would not have happened with his siblings because he learned, however the reason we see their younger versions at the end of season one is explained above, and it is they are aging back to when their initial time was and would have overwritten their original forms, or dealt with a second version of their original forms. But Five overshoots the time and so they end up their actual age in 1963 because a version of them does not exist, so it takes their current bodies which were their adult forms.

Five could have brought them back as adults to the time of when he left initially, which was his intended goal for that 2019 to Dallas jump, but that is math that he didn’t quite have a grasp on yet, and still technically doesn’t. As it is what the briefcases use for their ability to transport. It is however something Five is actively working on, for various Ben related reasons. Or at least he was working on it in the back of his mind until the plopped themselves into a different 2019.

That’s all I got for now. I hope this makes a little bit of sense to try and explain Five’s abilities and powers. This always has the possibility to be updated as new comics, and new seasons come out.

[gaygent37]

Curiosity Killed the Cat - Day 11

No-Set-Prompt-List-tober, October 11: OVERSIZED SWEATERS

JayDick, serial killers AU, drugged, anal sex, rough sex, knives, mild blood, (kinda fucked up murder related stuff) 1,143 words

/╲/\╭( ͡° ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ͡°)╮/\╱\ 

From across the club, Jason had taken notice of the boy, twenty-one at the oldest judging by his cocktail, sitting at the counter of the bar.

The boy was cute, and Jason labelled him a boy because he looked nothing like a man yet, especially with the peach colored oversized sweater he wore that practically swallowed his small size. The boy looked very innocent and rather effeminate. Just Jason’s type. But not Jason’s sexual or romantic type, but Jason’s victim type. 

He had been watching the boy for twenty minutes, and he did not seem to be with anyone. So Jason approached. 

“Hello,” he said, shooting the boy a smile. “It’s quite quiet here,” he said. “Not much of a social butterfly?”

The boy blinked at him like he was not entirely sure whether or not Jason was talking to him. “Oh,” he said. “Um, not tonight, I guess. I’m just people watching tonight.”

Jason hummed. “People watching, hm? Any interesting characters?”

The boy shrugged. “Not really. Though that woman over there is having an affair with the bartender.”

Jason laughed. “And how did you deduce that?”

The boy blushed. “She’s wearing a ring. He’s not. Five minutes ago, she slipped him a note and then slipped her ring off of her finger. They might leave together after his shift.”

“How very astute of you, Mr...?”

“Oh, not Mister,” the boy said quickly. “I just go by Dick. Dick Grayson.” He held out his hand for Jason to shake. 

Jason grinned at the boy. This was almost too easy. He had let his guard down, and within ten minutes, Jason was pretty sure he had his next pretty victim in the bag. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jason.” He took Dick’s hand, more than surprised to find the boy’s hands rather rough. 

“The hands of a worker?” Jason asked. 

Dick blushed and quickly pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands. “Um... yeah. I’m a gymnast... and a... police officer?” 

He seemed almost nervous to admit that. And Jason was a bit shocked as well, though he did not let it show. But soon, he found it even more intriguing. “Police officer? Are you sure? You don’t look a day over eighteen!”

Dick gasped. Then, he started laughing genuinely. “I’m- I’m twenty-six!”

Jason could not keep the shock off his face this time. Dick was older than he was! Still, somehow, it all made Jason want Dick more. Jason had never taken a victim that was older than him, nor an officer of the law. “Oh, my bad! I’m sorry for assuming,” Jason said quickly. “Here. Let me get you another drink as an apology?”

Dick paused for a second, then nodded. “Okay,” he said. 

Jason waved the bartender over and ordered another one of Dick’s drinks. When it came, Jason moved it over in front of Dick, who had been glancing at a loud argument somewhere to his left. While Dick was preoccupied, Jason slipped a little something into his drink, watching it dissolve instantly. 

“Oh, thank you,” Dick said, when he turned back around. He took the drink and lifted the glass to his lips. His bright blue eyes locked on Jason’s as he took his first sip. Then, he licked his lips and grinned at him. Jason smiled back at him. 

He kept Dick talking for ten minutes, and he started seeing the drug take effect. Dick’s blinks became longer, and his speech had a slurred tone to it. Occasionally, his eyebrows would draw together briefly. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Jason asked with a hint of worry in his voice. “You don’t look so good,” he said. 

Dick grimaced. “Oh... I’m fine, I think,” he said. “Just a bit... of a headache. Maybe I should go home...” He went to stand and almost immediately stumbled. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself. “I think the alcohol... hit me harder than I meant it to.”

Jason stood up as well. “Did you drive here? I could call you a cab,” he offered, giving Dick a hand. “Anyone I can help you call to pick you up? Or, I drove, and I could drop you off if we’re going in the same direction?”

Dick snorted and shook his head. “Ah, I don’t want to bother you,” he said. “I live in Upper Gotham. It’s wayyyyy over there.” He waved his hand in the opposite direction. 

Jason smiled. “Lucky for you, I’m headed up there too. I have to pick something up from a friend’s house. He lives in Upper Gotham as well,” Jason lied smoothly.

Dick gave him a suspicious look. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What street?”

“On West Park Avenue,” Jason said immediately.

Dick’s narrowed eyes slowly became normal again. “I guess... I guess you can take me home.”

“Yeah, my car’s this way,” Jason said, gently helping Dick out of the club, smiling to himself from over Dick’s head. 

~~~

“Which floor?” Jason asked as he helped Dick into the elevator. 

“Twen... Twenty-four,” Dick mumbled, practically half-passed out now. He was leaning fully on Jason, and Jason was holding up most of his weight. When the elevator lurched into movement, Dick tipped forward, and Jason barely caught him in time. 

“Woah!” Jason said. “Lightweight, are you?”

Dick shook his head and winced. “Not... usually. I think... the bartender put... too much vodka... in my drink tonight.”

Jason chuckled lightly. “Maybe it’s because he found out you were on to him about the affair.”

Dick laughed quietly, but only managing a few chuckles. 

Jason managed to get Dick’s apartment door open, and he helped the man all the way to his bed. On the dresser, Jason noted that, indeed, there was a rumpled police uniform, a badge, and a gun in its holster. Dick had been truthful after all. 

“Do you need water?” Jason asked. “Let me get you a glass of water before I go.”

Dick gave a half-groan of consent. 

Jason left the room to find the kitchen. He poured Dick a glass of water, but he mixed a stronger dose of the drug into it. It would put Dick to sleep and kill him in his sleep. Jason did not believe in cruel, painful deaths. He was an artist of sorts, arranging a person’s dead body into something that could be appreciated as art, if it were not first seen as murder. 

Suddenly, Jason felt something sharp poking into his back. He froze. 

“Well, well, well,” Dick mused. “What an interesting thing we have here,” he said. “You’re Jason Todd, right? The Jason Todd?”

Jason turned around slowly, setting down the glass of water. Dick held twin knives in his hands, and there was no sign of any drugs in his system. His sadistic grin made Jason’s blood run cold. 

But he kept a blank mask. “I saw you drink it all,” Jason said. “How are you fighting it?”

Dick laughed. “Jay,” he said. “I kill people for fun. I know all the typical ins-and-outs of this line of business. You’d think that I’ve got fail safes in case someone tried to poison me someday, right? I’ve built up an immunity to it, of course.”

Then he nodded at the glass of water. “Though, a dose like that would probably kill me,” he said. “But it would’ve been a slow, painful death.” Dick cocked his head to the side, still smiling. “But you don’t like slow, painful deaths, do you? You believe in it being quick and painless.”

Suddenly, Dick put the knives down. “What would you have done?” he asked. “If I did drink that and I didn’t die in my sleep like you wanted me to.”

Jason did not answer. He had never had that happen to him before. After administering the final dose, Jason’s victims always died within ten minutes into their final nap like they should have.

“Would you’ve stabbed me to put me out of my misery?” Dick asked. “Shot me through the head with my own gun? Left me there to suffer and run away because you failed?”

Jason frowned this time. “Of course I wouldn’t run away! That’s even crueler! I’d... snap your neck or something.”

“Hm,” Dick said. “Good choice. Less cleanup.”

“You were about to stab me in your own kitchen,” Jason accused. 

Dick rolled his eyes. “Of course I wasn’t! These babies are just for show. I’ve never killed anyone with them before. My stabbing knives are in there,” Dick said, nodding at the drawer on Jason’s right. 

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You keep your weapons of choice in- in your knife drawer? In the kitchen?”

Dick nodded. 

“That’s really fucking unsanitary,” Jason said, grimacing.

“It’s not like I cook anyway,” Dick laughed. “Anyway, what do we do now? I mean, I can’t exactly let you walk free, but I can’t exactly turn you in either.”

Jason opened and closed his mouth, having no ideas either. 

Suddenly, Dick gasped. “I have an idea.” He grabbed Jason’s wrist and started pulling him towards the bedroom.

Jason was very hesitant to go with him. He kept his eyes on the exit and made sure he knew exactly where Dick’s knives and gun was at all times. Once in Dick’s room, Dick pulled his sweater over his head and revealed a very fit body. Suddenly Dick did look his age, and Jason swallowed tightly because he suddenly also became Jason’s other type. 

Dick grabbed the rumpled uniform and started putting it on. 

“What... are you doing?” Jason asked warily. 

Dick gave him a wicked grin. “I’ve always wanted to roleplay police officer and serial killer with someone,” he said. “But like, how do you brink that up to a partner in bed?” he asked with a laugh. “But anyway, are you seducing me, or am I seducing you?”

Jason blinked at him rapidly. “How do you even know I swing that way?”

Dick gave him a wink. “Oh, it’s not about whether or not you swing that way, but whether you swing my way. And most people do.”

He stepped backwards until his legs hit the bed, and he fell back onto the bed. And to top it all off, he spread his legs and snapped handcuffs around his own wrists. 

“Well?” he asked with a smirk. “You gonna come make a piece of art of me, Mr. Todd? If you don’t catch me, I’ll catch you as soon as I’m free of these cuffs.”

And then there was a lock pick in Dick’s hands, and he was working it into the lock. That little movement did it for Jason. Though Jason knew Dick was tempting him, with the man spread out so nicely like that, Jason had to take advantage. 

He was across the room in a flash, and he had Dick’s wrists pinned down above his head with a low growl. 

Dick actually moaned. 

“What kind of prey willingly tempts the predator into a game of cat and mouse?” Jason asked harshly into Dick’s ear. He rut his hips against Dick’s at the same time.

Dick arched into Jason’s movement. “The kind that’s also a predator himself?” Dick panted back. “Or one that doesn’t mind playing the prey.”

“Fuck, Dickie, you’re tempting me,” Jason said, gritting his teeth. “I can’t promise you’ll come out of this unhurt.”

“Why?” Dick asked, his voice purely curious, not scared. “Are you feeling tempted to fuck me or to kill me, Jason?”

“I don’t know,” Jason breathed out. “Both.”

Dick fucking giggled. “That’s so hot, Jason,” he whispered. “You feel how hard that made me?” He rubbed the bulge of in his slacks into Jason’s equally hard and equally trapped cock. “Do something about it, Jay.”

That was all Jason needed to make his choice. He practically ripped Dick’s shirt off of him, buttons spraying everywhere. He pushed the torn cloth up around Dick’s wrist and held it there. He drank in Dick’s firm body. He helped himself to a particularly noticeable scar that ran over Dick’s collarbone with his tongue. 

Dick moaned again. “Lower,” he breathed. “Lower, please.”

Ignoring Dick’s pleads, Jason slowly trailed his hand down and put his hand into Dick’s pants, cupping the warm cock confined in the briefs. He let go of Dick’s wrists and started pulling Dick’s pants and underwear down. With the other man completely naked, Jason started working on his own clothes, shucking them away carelessly. 

Then, he climbed on top of Dick again, pushing between his legs roughly. “Lube?”

“Drawer,” Dick said impatiently, nodding at the drawer by his bed.

Jason reached over and fumbling around, looking for a tube. However, he pricked his finger on something sharp and pulled it out, only to see a pinpoint of blood on his fingertip. 

“Oops,” Dick giggled. “I don’t remember putting a knife in there.”

“Sure,” Jason said with a glare, sucking on his fingertip. Then, he grabbed the bottle of lube. Jason made quick work of prepping Dick with only two fingers, but Dick did not seem to mind the roughness, if his moaning was anything to go by. 

“You’ve got neighbors, you know,” Jason said, pouring lube over his cock and giving it a few strokes. Though he understood Dick’s desperateness and need to get on with the sex, he still wanted to be courteous to those around them. 

Dick gave a breathless laugh. “They’re voyeurs, it’s okay.”

Jason gave him a half-hearted frown, but he pushed deep into him with a hissed, “Fuck!”

Dick moaned and arched, taking even more of Jason into him. “Fuck, it’s been so long!”

“Does it hurt?” Jason asked. 

Dick laughed. “You’re such a big softie. I’m- I’m fine. But please, just fuck me!”

Jason was not one to disobey. He plunged himself into Dick’s tight, warm heat, thrusting into him over and over again. He gripped Dick’s waist tightly, pulling the man down to meet his thrusts and get deeper inside of him. 

“Just like that, Jason!” Dick cried, throwing his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, yes!” he shouted even louder, but at that point, Jason had stopped worrying about the neighbors. 

“You’re so fucking tight, Dickie,” Jason growled as he fucked Dick harder, pleasure pooling deep inside him as his orgasm started building. “I’m going to fucking wreck you.”

Dick gasped at his words, his pretty blue eyes opening slightly. “Please do,” he whispered. “Make a mess out of me, Jay. I wanna be your greatest masterpiece.”

That should not have been sexy. Jason did not mix sex with his art form (yes, it was murder, but he considered it an art). But when those words came from Dick’s plump, beautiful lips, Jason could not hold it back any longer. 

His thrusts became erratic, and Dick must have sensed it because he clenched down harder than before, and with a wail, he was cumming on Jason’s cock, tightening rhythmically around him. Jason’s cock was being milked by Dick’s insides, and at that point, it was all over for him. 

Jason spilled deep inside of Dick, painting his insides with his cum. Then, he collapsed down on top of Dick, barely managing to keep him from crushing the smaller man. 

Dick giggled. “How’d that feel, Mr. Artist?” he murmured. 

“Fuckin’ amazing,” Jason said. “Certainly the most exciting I’ve ever had.”

Dick hummed softly. Jason heard his handcuffs click and a second later, Dick’s arms hung loosely around Jason’s neck, but somehow, Jason had a feeling Dick would not snap it. “I agree,” Dick said. “’m tired now. Can we sleep?”

“How do you know you won’t kill me when I fall asleep?” Jason asked, rolling over but still keeping in close proximity to Dick. 

Dick held up a hand. “Pinkie promise?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. 

“I swear I won’t,” Dick said solemnly. “Besides, if I kill you here, your DNA is all mixed in with mine. I mean, it’s literally dripping out of me. And how do I know I can’t say the same about you?”

Jason sighed. “Probably because I literally left cum dripping out of you.” He reluctantly took Dick’s pinkie in his. The smaller man beamed, and Jason could not help but add a little smile as well. 

Then, Dick snuggled in closer to him, rubbing his face into Jason’s shoulder. “Mkay,” he said. “Now sleep.”

~~~

They both woke up around 3 in the morning and decided to get up to grab breakfast. However, it turned out that ice cream was the only thing that was still edible in Dick’s fridge. Jason also spied Dick’s knives still in the kitchen, and he noticed a couple of pumpkins sitting by the door. 

They somehow ended up carving pumpkins and eating ice cream together at 3 in the morning.

“So... what now?” Dick asked.

Jason reached his spoon into the quart of ice cream in Dick’s lap. “I dunno,” he said, licking the creamy vanilla treat off of his spoon before going back for more. “I can’t believe you only have vanilla ice cream in your freezer, Dickie. So boring.”

“Hey, I like vanilla! Besides, no one eats it but me, so why not buy my favorite?” Dick said, sticking his tongue out at Jason. He ate a huge spoonful to prove his point. Then, his face contorted due to brain freeze. 

Jason laughed at him. “Awww, poor Dickie might like vanilla ice cream, but vanilla ice cream doesn’t seem to like him back!”

Dick shoved him lightly, barely budging Jason. 

They fell into a companionable silence and stared at their flickering jack-o-lanterns as the so-to-be-rising sun started changing the colors of the sky.

“Hey, Jay,” Dick said quietly after a few minutes. 

“Hm?”

“What do you think about sticking around? Like, maybe as friends?”

Jason stared at Dick before he started laughing. “As friends? What kind of friends, Dickie? Serial killer friends? Friends with benefits friends? ‘Normal people’ friends?”

Dick was not amused. He glared at Jason. “Fine, not friends then,” he huffed. 

“Hey, I’m kidding,” Jason said. Dick continued pouting. Jason gently reached over and turned Dick’s face towards him. “Dickie, I’d like very much to be friends,” he said with a sincere smile. “Any kind of friends.”

And when Dick started smiling slowly, Jason knew it was all okay.

/╲/\╭( ͡° ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ͡°)╮/\╱\

I’m very sorry to say that that was a very half-assed piece of smut because I just wanted to get it done.