#saved this a while back i knew it’d come in handy

[l1veleak]

they need to put this sticker on the #6 rear wing

every once in a while drivers get a rude reminder that Kév does NOT back off😭

[raventroll80]

A Beast on Mars

Chapter 3 (Rewrite)

The Last Human on Mars

(I wasn't too happy with the original ending to this chapter so I rewrote it. Big thanks to @horseyneigh2002 for giving the new ending a read through before I posted it!)

Edit: I forgot the warnings! This chapter contains description of graphic injury, a lot of blood, and death.

Mim Digsby was a rather unremarkable person, they were just below average height with a somewhat stocky build, but they never thought it’d come in handy until they had to hide from the risen corpse of a security guard. They usually kept their hair short as they felt it was more hassle than it was worth, though they never thought they’d be grateful for it until they watched a co-worker get dragged into the vents by her hair. Mim mostly worked maintenance now, and knew the vents like the back of their hands, but they never knew that it’d ever save them from the demons that now prowled the halls of the UAC.

It had started like any other day, Mim had been scheduled to do some basic maintenance on some machinery in the morning before switching to excavation in the afternoon… that was until the screaming had started. One of the security guards had gone to investigate but seconds later he came running back firing at something howling behind him, then the something pounced on him and began to disembowel the man.

Mim and their co-workers had immediately fled the room only for another one of these…  things to jump them. The only warning they had gotten was the stench of sulfur and a flash of red light before that thing, that demon just appeared. It stood maybe six, maybe seven feet tall, its body was covered in thick yellow chitin with jagged spikes jutting out of its body. Its eyes, god its eyes…  they burned into them like argent. Mim watched as the imp gutted Samson in one swift motion, his body had dropped like a sack of hammers, his blood spilling out onto the floor. Mim could still hear his screams as the demon didn’t even wait for him to bleed out, thank god they hadn’t looked. The lockdown alarms were blaring but the doors refused to shut, something was wrong with the protocols… if the lockdown wouldn’t engage properly then there’d be nowhere for people to hide. Emerson, a technician, suggested that they go and manually engage the lockdown at the southside control room, given their lack of options everyone agreed to go. But things only got worse from there.

Mim had to lead the small group of survivors through the maintenance tunnels, during this they had passed through an observation deck where a large almost ape like monster shattered the glass. Georges and Amsbury got dragged out by the air pressure while Harris had been grabbed the massive monster. Within seconds their group of five became a band of two, Mim and Emerson had barely made it to the cargo elevator when they were jumped by yet another imp. It had managed to slash Emerson across the chest before Mim was able to blast its head apart with the shotgun she had taken from a dead guard. The demon slumped over, it’s bright red blood pooling on the floor. Mim had tried their best to stop the bleeding but it just kept pouring out. They tried convincing Emerson to come and look for a medical station, but he refused, claimed that he was fine, that it only looked worse than it actually was…

God why did they believe him…

As the elevator came to a stop the two heard the chime that accompanied an announcement over the intercom, but instead of VEGA or some other automated message it was Dr. Pierce and pit formed in their stomachs as she spoke.

“I believe in honesty, especially now, in what will be your final moments in this world. All the rumors, the human sacrifices, the Hell portal, the demons… it’s all true…”

The two gave each other a grave look before climbing the blood-soaked stairs as Dr. Pierce continued her speech.

“My brothers and sisters be thankful, you will be the first, you will have a seat along side them just as I will in what will become the new world, they create for us… starting now…” Instead of another chime indicating the broadcast was over a demonic scream blared over the intercoms.

Emerson was able to stop the broadcast from repeating before forcing the lockdown protocols to engage. The technician looked out over the Martian landscape, the blue sunrise slowly creeping over the horizon.

“If Pierce is already on their side, then how many of the others are too… if we just leave it on then some, some cultist could just swing by and turn the lockdown back off. Hel- fuck, we don’t even know if VEGA is still on our side!” Emerson said in frustration, staring down at the consol with a contemplative look.

“Then what do you think we should do…”

“You think you can shut the power off?”

“Yea, there’s a main generator not too far from here. I can use the access vents to get to it. What are you going to do?” Mim asked, not entirely sure what to make of the situation.

“I’m gonna lock VEGA out from accessing the terminal digitally. If he’s really on our side then he can come turn the power back on himself.”

Emerson initiated some sort of malware or firewall before giving Mim the go ahead and Mim jumped down into the maintenance vent. Through the dark tunnels of wires and metal Mim crawled, until they found the main generator. They logged into the access terminal and shut off the power to the Res Ops facility. Mim hoped they’d given people enough time, or that there were any people left. It was deathly quiet as the facility shifted to emergency power. Normally it wouldn’t, but with the emergency lockdown protocol in effect prior to main power shutdown the facility forces the use of the backup generators. The quiet of the facility felt crushing as Mim crawled back to the control room. Something felt off as the mechanic drew near. It was too quiet, something was missing…

“Emerson!” Mim called out as they realized that they could no longer hear the technicians ragged breathing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” they muttered as they scrambled out of the vent but it was too late. Emerson was dead.

The man was slumped over, his back against the console, clothes drenched in blood. Mim took a few shaky breaths as they processed the situation. Chances where the casualties were in the thousands, and if they were being realistic… then Mim Digsby was possibly the last human left on Mars.

“God damn it Emerson… why didn’t you listen to me,” Mim pressed their forehead against Emersons before stumbling out of the control room, their body was still shaking from the shock and reality of the situation. They needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide and hope there was anyone left to rescue them.

Mim didn’t know if it had been hours or days that had passed, somewhere in that time they had managed to find a chainsaw. Why was there a chainsaw on Mars? Who cares, it’s a chainsaw! Like they were just going to pass the offer of a free chainsaw in a time like this. Besides, chainsaws are great communicators when it came to the undead. Just as Mim had finished airing their grievances with a zombie they’d found in a locker room an explosion boomed from outside, causing the lockers to rattle and Mim to jolt and accidentally wedge the chainsaw deeper into the corpse. Before they could try to remove the weapon, another explosion rocked the room and demons began howling as what sounded like heavy artillery went off.

“Was it the marines? The Elite Guard?” Mim abandoned the chainsaw and climbed through an access vent to the offices above to investigate the sounds, though what they saw was far from what they had been hoping for. There, just outside the building was a behemoth of a monster clinging to the very structure they were standing in. The creature appeared to be fighting the demons outside of the locker room, though fighting was a strong word for what was happening, it was more of a bloodbath if anything. The room shook violently as another explosion rocked the cargo bay outside. The glass rattled menacingly but thankfully didn’t shatter, thank god. Mim scurried back from the window as the behemoth slaughtered the last of the demons. In their haste, Mim had knocked over a chair and alerted the massive demon. They had barely made it into the vent before the behemoth was tearing its way into the room.

Mim quietly watched as the massive creature began searching the room. Was it looking for them? God they hoped not, that thing just tore through the building like it was cardboard! Granted this wasn’t the strongest of building in the Mars facility, but the point still stood that this thing, whatever it was, would catch Mim within seconds. The mechanic watched as the creature inspected the health station in an almost curious manner. Tilting its head inquisitively, before turning it slightly as though it were listening to someone or something. Its curiosity apparently satisfied, the great beast turned around and proceeded to smash in the glass to one of the storage rooms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, I need to fucking leave” Mim hissed to themselves and they started to shimmy further into the vent. That glass was at least an inch and a half thick and that thing just shattered it like it was nothing.

Mim heard the creature walk back out to the cargo bay, catching a glimpse of it beginning to scale the wall, it’s clawed gauntlets digging into the stone. Part of them was slightly in awe of the massive beast, but overall Mim was terrified. The massive thing, looked to be nearly 16 feet tall, it could probably eat them in one bite if it wanted to. Mim shuddered at the thought, “Nope, nu-uh, nah…” The monster’s armour was complex, not too unlike that of Hayden’s Elite Guards though it was a deep green colour instead of the guards imposing red and black armour. Though Mim couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d seen it before…

A raspy hiss rattled from behind the mechanic, filling them with dread before sharp claws dug into their legs and dragged them off into the darkness of the facility. Mim was barely able to let out a scream before their head was slammed into the vent and everything went black.

As the Slayer climbed up the walls of the cargo bay, he heard a faint sound echo from below. As quick as it came it was gone, but the sound was unmistakable. It was a scream, and not just any scream; a human scream. The Slayer looked back down to the platform below, should he go look? What if they were already dead? He watched as several field drones entered the room below and fanned out. One of the drones separated from the group and hovered up to him. That familiar chime sounded in his helmet garnering an annoyed growl from the behemoth.

“I apologize for the repeated interruptions but one of the nearby cameras picked up what I believe to be a human scream. The sound originated from this sector and I wanted to know if you heard anything. The cameras have been malfunctioning, replaying audio and visuals from the start of the incident. I do not know what is causing this malfunction but it is impairing my ability to search for survivors so I will need your help in locating any potential survivors.” The Slayer huffed, clearly getting impatient with the AI.

“I do not know what your stance is on humans as a whole, but I can tell you already have a distain for the UAC. But I must ask that you please keep an eye out for any survivors.” VEGA waited for a response from the Slayer, but all he got was a soft growl from the behemoth.

VEGA left the Slayer to return to his mission, concern starting to build in his processors. Could he trust the Slayer to protect, let alone inform him of any survivors? VEGA hadn’t even been able to recover the field drone that he’d destroyed, he couldn’t even find any evidence of its existence aside from a few scraps from the outer shell… did he eat it? No, he couldn’t have. The Slayer may be a brute, but even he should know that a drone wasn’t even remotely edible. Right?

He could only hope the Slayer would be kinder to a human than he was to a machine.

The Slayer followed the elevator tracks up the chasm and into what appeared to be a mining tunnel or a cut-through point in the facility. The tunnel was long and dark, lit only by the dim string of lights that hung from the walls and ceiling. Checking his map, the Slayer confirmed that this was indeed the way forward. The giant grumbled as he walked down the cold tunnel. He was certain there was a faster route to the gore nest but VEGA was (regrettably) right. As much as he wanted to tear the UAC apart, he needed to be mindful of any potential survivors. Sure, the chances of anyone surviving this long were slim, but he didn’t want to take that risk. As he walked through the tunnel he passed by a group of corpses. Bodies both human and demon were strewn about, it appeared this group chose to make this their final stand, though it was clear the battle had no winners. Further investigation revealed that in an attempt to close off the tunnel or possibly destroy the Gore Nest ahead, the workers had loaded containers of explosives onto trolleys and carts, their lids hastily removed in a last-ditch effort to try and blow up the attacking demons.

Slayer thought about taking the explosive with him, but without the detonator they’d be harder to use. As he contemplated the explosives, the Slayer spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Expecting a demon trying to get the drop on him, he whipped around and was about to fire at the movement, but stopped himself just short of pulling the trigger when he spotted the source of the movement.

There, slumped against the wall was a human barely clinging to life, staring at him with a fearful expression smeared across their bloodied face. Their body was heavily scarred; thick deep gashes across their stomach, their clothes torn and drenched in blood, a large chunk had been taken out of his right shoulder, their left leg had been torn to bloody ribbons while the right leg was nothing more than a bloody stump. The Slayer froze, not sure how to proceed, how the poor man was still alive was beyond him.

Slowly, the Doom Slayer approached the injured human, who quickly held up a small rectangular box, causing the behemoth to freeze. They had a detonator, if he wasn’t careful and scared the human too much then he’d bring the whole tunnel down on both of them. Carefully the Slayer his gun down and raised his hands in the air. The human gave him a suspicious look as he took his finger off the button but still refused to drop the detonator. Once again, the Slayer began to slowly approach the human, his tail slightly raised as to not let it scrape across the ground. Eventually the Slayer managed to walk up to the dying human and sat down next to him, the next few moments were oddly peaceful given the circumstances, the human had even put down the detonator and leaned his back against the wall.

The human huffed and closed his eyes, seemingly trusting the Slayer not to kill them in this moment of respite, their breath ragged and shaky. Carefully, while their eyes were closed, the Slayer wrapped his clawed hands around the injured human’s torso and pulled him close. The human in question, quickly scrambled in an attempt to grab the detonator before but all they managed to was aggravate their injuries, so instead he threw his arms over his head and braced for whatever violent end he was about to meet… but it never came.

Instead, they were placed in the lap of this strange behemoth as it removed its gloves and helmet. The creatures face looked almost human but not quite right, it-he? Stared down at the man before gently lifting their body up once more, but instead of biting his head off, the Slayer instead held him close to his chest. A soft rumbling began to emerge from deep within the behemoth.

The Doom Slayer leaned his back against the well as he felt the human slowly begin to calm down, but something felt… off. Instead of the grooved stone of the tunnel, the Slayer’s back was leaned against the cool metal of a wall, the sharp stinging scent of chemicals assaulted his nostrils. Where was he?  Mars? No, that’s not right. He wasn’t stationed on Mars, it was Phobos he got sent to… wait. If he was on Phobos, then why was he holding a miner? Miners weren’t stationed on Phobos. The Behemoth huffed, stale cave air filling his lungs, the rancid chemical smell quickly fading from his memory as he felt the human squirming under his grasp.

The Slayer quickly realized that his grip on the human had gotten tighter, hurting the poor thing. The Slayer loosened his grip and tried to give the poor man a reassuring pat with the pad of his thumb which only garnered frightened whimper. Feeling even worse for the dying human the Hellwalker tried to croak out an apology as he set the human back down in his lap, but all that came out were garbled bellows as blood began to bubble in his throat. The no-longer man quickly stopped his attempt only to realize the miner had gone still, his eyes glazed over and lifeless. The behemoths shoulders sagged and huffed as he came to the realization that the human had died.

Looking back down at his bloody hands and chestplate, down at the dark red blood from the human mixing with the bright crimson of the demons. Gently he set the still warm body down upon the cold stone of the tunnel and made a mournful sound the taste his own blood tingled in the back of his throat. As the Doom Slayer stood up, donning his helmet once more, sorrow quickly turning into anger as he remembered why he was here and that Hell was to blame for this. Checking his map, he confirmed that the Gore Nest was at the end of this godforsaken tomb, and with a vicious snarl he snatched up the crates of explosives and charged down the tunnel with blood on his lips and fury burning in his chest.

Within seconds the Hellwalker found himself at the end of the tunnel looking out into a much larger cargo bay. Across from him, the Gore Nest hung, suspended by thick sinewy cables that attached themselves to gore covered support beams. From his position, the Slayer could see the Gore Nest’s beating heart and a circle of zombies knelt around a sigil. The Unchained Predator threw the crates onto the demonic structure before lobbing a grenade towards it and firing. An explosion shook the room and the Gore Nest screamed in pain and with a running leap the Doom Slayer jumped onto it, shoving the still burning barrel of his shotgun against its putrid heart and fired.

[favefandomimagines]

You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ (s.h)

Summary: he never thought it’d be you but he was ready when it was

AN: inspired by 4x7 so SPOILERS to anyone who hasn’t seen season 4 volume 1 of Stranger Things!!!

Instead of Nancy getting cursed by Vecna it’s the reader, Steve’s ex girlfriend, and since we don’t know what happens to Nancy and I can’t seem to write anything that doesn’t end happily, reader survives

You thought it was over. You thought that everything with the Upside Down was done and you could move on.

That was until your step sister Max spotted Chrissy Cunningham dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. Then you were sucked into it all over again.

What made it worse was that you were still trying to get over the death of your brother. Billy wasn’t the greatest guy, hell he wasn’t even a decent guy but he was your brother. Your brother who got wrapped into something he knew nothing about.

And the guilt ate you alive every day after he died. You thought that maybe if you had only told him the truth about the demodogs, the Upside Down, Eleven, that he wouldn’t have been such an easy target.

You also thought and sometimes wished that it would’ve been you. That you would’ve been possessed by the Mind Flayer and not Billy.

They were things that you thought about daily but never told a soul. You only had Max who was also trying her best to cope.

Everyone around you seemed to just forget about your brother and move on with their lives. So much so that it angered you to no end.

Nancy, Robin, your boyfriend Steve, all seemed to forget that Billy died too not just Hopper. In your anger and your grief, you picked a fight with Steve. Screaming something about how because Hopper was Hopper they all see him as the hero, the martyr.

But they all forget Billy, who sacrificed his life to save El, you and Max. He did bad things so they just forgot about him. Steve told you that wasn’t true but you didn’t want to hear it. You were too angry at the world and at yourself.

That night you told Steve you were done and hadn’t spoken to him since.

Until it all started happening again. You, your step sister and your friends had to find a way to clear Eddie’s name and stop anyone else from dying. You didn’t know that was going to end up with you being in the Upside Down.

You were all taking a moment to catch your breath and assess your wounds after the demobats attacked.

They had taken a good chunk of flesh out of Steve and you were sat in front of him trying to bandage them as best you could.

It was the most you had interacted with him since this whole adventure started. His eyes were trained on you rather intently as you tied the piece of cloth around his torso.

Steve was still hopelessly in love with you. He never wanted to end your relationship and he wanted to beg for you back but he knew you needed to heal. And if you couldn’t do that while being with him, he had to let you go.

As he watching you closely, he noticed some blood coming from a wound in your neck. “Hey, hey, you’re hurt.” Steve spoke as he sat forward, placing a hand on the side of your neck.

“I’m fine. I could look like you right now.” You joked. “Y/N, let me see it.” He said. “Steve,” You started. “Y/N,” He replied. “I’m fine.” You said sternly. “You don’t have to be fine with me. You can talk to me.” He told you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, looking down at your handy work. Then your eyes found his and for a moment you felt like everything could be okay. But reality sunk in way too quick.

Thankfully it seemed that your time in the Upside Down was coming to an end. You had found the gate at Eddie’s trailer and watched as Robin and Eddie climbed back to the other side.

You looked at Steve and he could see the fear on your face. “You’re going to be okay.” He said. You nodded your head and began to climb.

Buy you didn’t land in your dimension. You were standing in the middle of Star Court mall.

“No.” You whispered. You knew what this was now. Vecna had taken ahold of you, cursed you. “Y/N.” You heard a sinister voice say.

You turned around and saw a fleeting figure walking towards you.

“You could have told me the truth. Saved me.” The voice said. As the figure got closer, you could make out that it was Billy. He was covered in blood, holes in his chest and abdomen from the Mind Flayer.

“Billy,” you started, tears welling up in your eyes. “You should have told me everything. I would be alive right now if you told me.” He said. “You did it on purpose.” He added. “No, no, Billy I didn’t.” You pleaded.

Back in the trailer, Steve was trying to shake you awake. Anything to get you to go back to normal.

“No, no, no, not you. It can’t be you, please.” He begged. “Dustin! He’s got Y/N!” Steve yelled through the gate. “Shit, shit, shit!” Dustin swore. “Come on, Y/N, don’t do this.” Steve said, hands cupping your face.

“Steve, her favorite song! What’s her favorite song?” Robin called. “I-I-“ Steve stammered before he took a breath.

Freaking out and losing hope was not going to save you and he couldn’t let you die, not like that.

“You wanted me to die, Y/N. Admit it.” Billy spoke. “No I didn’t.” You said firmly. Though you were a crumbling mess on the outside. “You were selfish. You, Max, Harrington. All of you selfish.” He said. “Billy please.” You cried. “You could join me. Come be with me in death. We can be together again. No one can hurt us there.” He told you.

In a matter of seconds, Billy wasn’t standing in front of you anymore, it was Vecna. His hand shot out and wrapped around your throat, squeezing the life out of you.

“Join me and your suffering will end.” He spoke menacingly.

“You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips,” Steve’s voice echoed. “And there’s no tenderness like before in your fingertips,”

His voice was there, you could hear it but it also sounded a million miles away.

He was singing your favorite song, something he only ever did when he was with you and you only. Steve had always wondered why you loved that song so much and you could never give him a clear answer. It was a sad song and he never knew why you loved it.

You would tell him that the lyrics portrayed hopelessness but the music made you feel the exact opposite. You could never help but sing at the top of your lungs whenever you’d hear it.

It was exactly the way Max had described it when Vecna tried to curse her. She heard ‘Running Up that Hill’ the second you and Lucas had put the tape in her Walkman.

“You’re trying hard not show it, but baby, baby I know it,” You heard the next verse and looked down up at Vecna. You weren’t going to let him win when you had people who love you waiting for you on the other side.

“Join me, Y/N.” Vecna said. “No.” You answered. You maneuvered your head and bit the hand that was squeezing your throat. Vecna groaned in pain and let go of you, dropping you back to the ground.

When you looked up, you could see the outline of Steve standing in front of you, singing to you, trying to get you to come back to him. And you’d be damned if you went out the same way your brother did. You didn’t want to be another name and face on the long list of senseless deaths in Hawkins.

You ran as fast as you could towards the opening where you saw Steve, the sound of his voice being your driving force. “You’ve lost that lovin’ feelin’ woah that lovin’ feelin,’ bring back that lovin’ feelin’ cause it’s gone, gone, gone,”

This time you heard Max’s voice along with Steve’s as you ran. You couldn’t let her lose yet another sibling in such a gruesome way and she didn’t need to see that again. When you reached the opening, you gasped and let your eyes refocus.

“Oh my god, y-you’re back. You’re okay.” Steve exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you hugged him back, the act bringing the utmost sense of relief. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” You breathed, repeating it for you and for him. “You sang to me.” You said. “Yeah, yeah I did. How else were you supposed to hear The Righteous Brothers?” He replied light with humor.

“I’m so sorry.” You cried. “Never apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.” Steve said. “I was awful, I pushed you away. I was so angry that we all just forgot about Billy and I took it out on you.” You rebutted. “I never forgot Billy. I see his face everyday and I thank him because if it wasn’t for what he did, you wouldn’t be here.” Steve told you.

You pulled apart and looked up at him, complete adoration on your face. “I love you, Steve.” You said. “I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.” He replied.

“Hate to break up the moment but can you guys get the hell out of there, please?” Eddie yelled through the gate. You smiled at Steve for a moment, wanting to dwell in that moment for a little longer.

“You ready?” Steve asked. “As long as you’re right behind me.” You replied. “I’ll always be right behind you. I promise.” Steve answered and he meant it.

[slothgiirl]

the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet. 

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship. 

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war. 

It was what you kept telling yourself. 

You would. 

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath. 

And spot the Red Paladin. 

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him. 

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle. 

You don’t even think. 

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance. 

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough. 

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin. 

But he doesn’t pull away or argue. 

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure. 

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy. 

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?” 

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number. 

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.” 

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.” 

You laugh. 

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill. 

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away. 

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen. 

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die. 

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination. 

You didn’t understand why. 

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished. 

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely. 

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars. 

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes. 

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step. 

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was. 

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith. 

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement. 

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.” 

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you. 

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers. 

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive. 

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered. 

You meet his gaze head on. 

“I might need some help,” he allows. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing. 

War made quick brothers out of everyone. 

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.” 

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features. 

You follow his lead. 

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space. 

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters. 

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true. 

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.” 

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana. 

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.” 

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly. 

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science. 

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak. 

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks. 

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining. 

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him. 

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy. 

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities. 

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason. 

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself. 

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging. 

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these. 

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you. 

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls. 

“It’s true,” he says simply. 

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here. 

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe. 

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease. 

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in. 

It was an unprecedented reaction. 

He must feel it too. 

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun. 

You shift your weight from one foot to another. 

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away. 

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers. 

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave. 

He says nothing. 

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors. 

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone. 

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job. 

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing. 

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl. 

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away. 

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip. 

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest. 

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew. 

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity. 

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours. 

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room. 

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates. 

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel. 

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you? 

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far. 

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers. 

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you. 

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint. 

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt. 

In the hall. 

Where anyone could see. 

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome. 

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip. 

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you. 

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards. 

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires. 

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy. 

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed. 

You want more. 

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket. 

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron. 

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge. 

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off. 

He’s watching. 

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra. 

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well. 

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer. 

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter. 

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat. 

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours. 

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected. 

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out. 

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans. 

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers. 

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in. 

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his. 

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin. 

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.” 

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it. 

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.” 

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation. 

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks. 

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you. 

Keith aquieses. 

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock. 

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you. 

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were. 

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out. 

“God, yes,” you utter dazed. 

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour. 

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down. 

You come. 

Leaving you boneless. 

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, ��let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out. 

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you. 

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. 

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands. 

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds. 

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure. 

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room. 

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth. 

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame. 

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed. 

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you. 

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess. 

“Right there, right there,” you utter. 

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax. 

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks. 

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up. 

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life. 

You got what people meant about the right partner. 

The right sexual energy to match. 

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you. 

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed. 

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in. 

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of. 

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you. 

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed. 

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself. 

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you. 

You wanted to lay there with him. 

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway. 

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt. 

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows. 

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow. 

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.  

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours. 

He closes his eyes. 

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly. 

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.” 

So he could joke. 

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met. 

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring. 

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side. 

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours. 

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed. 

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out. 

So you say nothing. 

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled. 

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up. 

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing. 

You close your eyes. 

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check. 

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods. 

You exhale. 

There’s no way to mark the passage of time. 

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. 

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you. 

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely. 

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft. 

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you. 

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you. 

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling. 

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back. 

You give in, sinking down onto his cock. 

He moans your name, shutting his eyes. 

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat. 

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you- 

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise. 

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh. 

Your stomach was taunt. 

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly. 

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat. 

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think. 

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out. 

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped. 

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away. 

You falter. Had you read things wrong? 

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…” 

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform. 

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there. 

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it. 

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears. 

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come. 

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically. 

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely. 

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .” 

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted. 

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take. 

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk. 

Getting up the next morning is hell. 

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages. 

Nothing from earth. 

That was expected. 

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel. 

You shower. 

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being. 

Come was gross. 

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens. 

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again. 

No. 

Not going there. 

No space weirdness this morning. 

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space. 

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut. 

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked. 

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring. 

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way. 

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish. 

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away. 

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit. 

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful. 

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now. 

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap. 

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon. 

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. 

You connect the dots. 

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra. 

Only that made no sense. 

He was from Earth. 

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra? 

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days. 

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud. 

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels. 

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks. 

Still, it was your assignment. 

“It is vital.”

They always said that. 

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz. 

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space. 

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.” 

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours. 

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze. 

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it. 

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet. 

It was intriguing. 

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor. 

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters. 

Keith is pacing outside your door. 

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him. 

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off. 

Your heart ached. 

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all. 

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first. 

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness? 

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect. 

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge. 

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought. 

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning. 

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all. 

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants. 

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things. 

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony. 

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.” 

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips. 

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb. 

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips. 

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more. 

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

[infernalrevenge]

Hello~! Hope you are having a wonderful day~! 🐝💜

Would it be okay to get some headcannons or little drabbles for the 4 Lords reacting to their crush of whom is a chubby/curvy Reader and (secretly-) a powerful swimmer (possibly was a lifeguard in the past)? Possibly Reader sees & saves their crush from a leg cramp to slipping off the peer due to ice one day...?

Did lifeguarding for 2 years before COVID started and absolutely loved doing the job, but also enjoyed the class itself!

Yoooo that's really cool :D That's the kind of stuff that really comes in handy in real life huh, I'm glad you had a fun experience with it! Let's bring on the Lords!!!

Alcina Dimitrescu

Respectfully, she is looking 👀

As a lady of thiccness herself, of course she appreciates people of any size and shape.

You might get a little flustered with how much attention she lavishes you with, whether it was with physical affection or just a very appreciative gaze. You'd have a hard time ever doubting her attraction to you on any level.

She's not really much of a swimmer herself, preferring to soak and lounge if she really had to be in any body of water (or fluid, see: the literal blood bath in her castle.)

That said, she's willing to join you for a midday dip if you ask nicely. She'll indulge you, especially if she knew how much you enjoyed it.

She might even go ahead and join you in the deeper parts of the water, it's not like it'll be an issue. By the time it gets to her chest, you'll probably be paddling under the surface to keep afloat.

You can teach her how to swim and do different strokes and kicks as a way to bond and get closer (she wouldn't mind.)

Though there's probably a reason why she doesn't swim so much -- she's incredibly dense due to her added body weight and muscle mass.

Still, it was a valiant effort and the Countess had some fun, even if she wasn't able to float in the same way you were.

Watching you swim her in circles was an activity she vastly preferred, though she wouldn't be opposed to another lesson. Maybe guide her into proper form while you were at it.

Unfortunately, the fantasy of saving her from drowning may be farther from reality. It would actually be more likely for her to save you. Hopefully, you wouldn't mind a tall strong woman such as herself carrying you back to safety when need be.

Donna Beneviento

She's... not fond of swimming.

Okay, it's not really the activity itself that bothers her, it's the fact that she has to change into something if she wants to go in the water but if there's nowhere to change then she has to wear it under her normal clothes, then after the swimming is over she has to deal with being wet and cold for a while--

"You'll see me in a bathing suit," you might say to jokingly convince her.

You'll be surprised at how quickly her tune changes after realizing this, she's already picking out something to wear.

Funnily enough, Angie might even have her own set of swimwear -- just imagine an old timey swimsuit on her wooden doll body... now imagine Donna in a matching pair.

Honestly it's kind of adorable to think about, but don't laugh too much at her. Some light teasing is alright though.

When you get to your destination, Donna tries her best to mostly stay along the sidelines. Maybe dip her toes in a bit, but that's as far as she's willing to go.

...until Angie, without warning, dove into the water for a little bit of fun.

Now normally this wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that she is a wooden doll and the water would definitely ruin some parts of her body. And before Donna even has time to think about it, she jumps in right after her for a rescue.

Did I mention that she can't swim? Uhhh oops.

It's lucky that you do though SOMEONE HELP THEM

You immediately start going over to them, trying your best to calm Donna down as Angie sat atop her head.

The whole time Donna is clinging to you, watching your strong arms pull you closer back onto the shore. She doesn't even realize it's time to let go by the time you do get there.

She definitely won't be getting into swimming any time soon, but... she did quite enjoy watching you do it. Hope you like an audience from that day forward.

Salvatore Moreau

SWIMMING BUDDIES!!!!

Pardon his excitement but he would be absolutely thrilled to have someone go swimming with him, especially someone who could even keep up with his pace. He kind of wishes that the two of you could spend it somewhere not as dank as his little ol' reservoir though.

Yeah, it's home, but he only wants the best for you, so you two might find yourselves in a secluded lake somewhere. A little privacy never hurt.

In the water, Moreau moves much faster and smoother -- he's literally in his element, of course he would be comfortable moving around.

He even let you ride on his back so you can get some distance. This could be fun!

Though having cramps while in the middle of a big lake was decidedly less fun. It didn't help that Sal can't even point out exactly where it started to stiffen.

It was a good thing your training kicked in at the first sign of his pain, and you tried your best to calm him down.

You let him hold onto your shoulders as you swam him back to shore. Funny how the tables have turned.

Before he could even start apologizing for "ruining the day" and wanting to make it up to you, you start your first aid to relieve his cramps and assure him that everything was alright. You were more than happy just to get to spend time with him, and you were sure to remind him not to push too hard just to impress you.

If you really want him to be quiet? Plant a little kiss on his cheek. That'll render him speechless for a few hours for sure.

Karl Heisenberg

Honestly, it'd be pretty hard to convince Karl to go near any body of water. Since he believed that his body was much like the Narke japonica (Japanese sleeper ray), he believed would be fine in water.

Let's just say he didn't take into account the difference between his own physiology and a fish's, so when he tried to use his powers while in water... uhhhh...

Long story short, no water time for the zappy boi.

You can probably convince him to join you on swimming trips anyway (what a simp) but he won't get in with you. He doesn't want to take the risk.

Besides, he doesn't mind the view ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He swears the way he's looking at you is just being appreciative of the way you dive into the lake. He may get a little closer to the lake too, just to keep an eye on you.

If you tell him about your lifeguarding past, he knows you'll be able to handle yourself, but he just wants to be sure that everything's going to be o--

FUCK!!!!

One second he's on the pier and the next he's in freezing cold water. He's not having a good time!

By the time he realizes you're there and tugging him to safety, all he's thinking is "Don't electrocute them, don't electrocute them, DON'T ELECTROCUTE--"

...how did you get to the shore so fast?

Apparently, he had blacked out somewhere in the commotion of it all and he was lying on his back, a face full of you greeting him as soon as he opened his eyes.

"Well hello there," he'd say with a smirk.

If he got to see an angel every time he ended up in water, he might do it more often. (And he actually might, you oughtta keep a close eye on him during these trips.)

[kung-laos-hat]

Fool

Kung Lao x Fem!Reader

Warning: Contains major spoilers from Mortal Kombat 9, including quotes from the actual script. :) kinda follows the canon but also doesn’t considering this is an x reader ‼️Not Proof read yet‼️

AN: words of affirmation and acts of service love language goes brrrrr

Summary: Kung Lao is devastated that his best friend and the girl he loves get to complete in the tournament without him, so he does what any sane person does: sneaks his way onto the island and challenges Scorpion in an attempt to impress the reader :D

“We’ll be back before you know it, Lao.” (Y/n) said, placing a hand on Kung Lao’s shoulder.

He chuckled nervously and nodded, trying his best to seem at ease but the uncertainty in his eyes gave it all away. It didn’t matter how long they trained or how prepared the elder monks thought (Y/n) and Liu Kang were. (Y/n)’s attempts at comforting the young man were fruitless.

It wasn’t just that he was worried for his childhood friends’ safety. There was no denying that was definitely one of the reasons he was reluctant to see them off, but aside from that he was envious. And how could he not be? The two of them were chosen by the elder monks to represent their section in the tournament where some the greatest fighters would be present.

Sure, he always knew the elder monks would choose (Y/n). She was the perfect fighter in his eyes. (Y/n) was clever, cunning, and quick on her feet. It just made sense that she’d be the first choice.

However, that left that second slot open for debate, and the primary candidates were Liu and Lao. Now Kung Lao promised himself that no matter what the elder monks decided, he wouldn’t let that drive a wedge in his relationship with his cousin, and he’d been fairly true to his word so far. He was proud of Liu, really.

But time went on and Raiden suggested that it’d be best for Liu and (Y/n) to train together in private, allowing them to grow accustomed to each other’s moves, strengths, and weaknesses. This would come in handy if the two of them should ever find themselves in a position in which they had to fight opponents together. Of course, Liu and (Y/n) already had established a close friendship, but there was nothing wrong with a little refining.

Lao had no problem with this, that is, until the tournament grew closer, and he began to see less and less of the duo. (Y/n) in particular almost seemed to be avoiding him, but Kung Lao knew her better than to assume that was the case. Yes, Liu Kang and (Y/n) were close, but not as close as Kung Lao and (Y/n). The three of them were the best of friends since childhood, but Lao always felt like there was something special between him and (Y/n) that just wasn’t present in her relationship with Liu.

(Y/n) had her fair share of sneaking out, having midnight conversations, and causing mischief amongst the other pupils, with Liu, sure, but it was Kung Lao she always turned to when in need of comfort. Somehow (Y/n) preferred to talk about her problems with Lao, and boy did he love it when she did. It was like seeing a completely gentler, more authentic side of her.

Because of this, Lao simply noticed things about (Y/n) no one else did. He knew what made her happy, and when one night she expressed how anxious training made her, he began to go out of his way to do some of her daily chores along with his own or do little things such as make her a snack. Of course, his pride would never allow his to flat out tell her he’d be doing all of this just because.

No, it was always,

“I just happened to make too much to eat by myself.”

Or

“Don’t look too deep into it. If I didn’t do your laundry for you, you’d probably let it lay around your room. Then you’d have nothing clean to wear and you’d start stealing my clothes.”

Soon enough, Lao’s thoughts were flooded with nothing but (Y/n), and everyday he was forced to remember that she and Liu Kang were spending more and more time together, and eventually would be sent off to potentially die. This not only rubbed salt in the wound of not being chosen, but created a new fear for the poor young man.

God, what if (Y/n)’s opponent didn’t spare her? Would Liu Kang or Raiden interject? Kung Lao knew he would. He’d do anything to keep her safe. Hell, he’d throw away his pride and get on his hands and knees to beg if it meant saving (Y/n).

Was that why Liu Kang was chosen and not him? Because he was a better match for (Y/n)? Did the elder monks think he was more capable than him than much? Or was it (Y/n) who chose Liu Kang to fight beside her?

Now here he stood before her, soaking in her presence potentially for the last time. (Y/n)’s hand lingered on his shoulder a little longer, then she signed and took both of his hands in her own.

“What is it?” She asked, looking up expectantly.

Lao blinked, “What?”

“You’ve got that look on your face. Y’know the one that screams ‘I’ve got something to say, but I’m a wuss so instead I’m going to dwell in my room immediately after you leave,’” (Y/n) teased.

Lao half smiled and pulled his arms away. “It’s nothing, I’m just worried for you two.”

(Y/n)’s face softened and she offered him a small smile. “Hey, don’t worry about me. Liu Kang’s bad temper, maybe, but I’m sure I’ll be okay out there.” She opened her arms and embraced Lao, which he quickly accepted.

“After all,” (Y/n) said pulling away slightly and flicking the tip of Kung Lao’s hat, “I trained with the best.”

“We’ve got to get going!” Liu called out from a few feet away at the enterance of the temple.

With that, she placed a small kiss on Lao’s cheek and ran off to join him and Raiden.

“You better return in one piece!” Kung Lao called out jokingly.

“If I don’t, you better build me a cooler body!” (Y/n) laughed, waving her hand over her head.

With a flash of light, the three of them were gone.

___

So far the introduction to the tournament was running smoothly. (Y/n) had managed to hold pleasant conversations with a few other competitors, including one by the name Johnny Cage. (much to Liu Kang’s distain. Apparently Johnny had accidentally disrespected Raiden and was under the impression that everyone there was just really into roleplay. But aside from being a little arrogant, (Y/n) didn’t mind him.)

(Y/n) had been selected to do a quick demonstration fight against none other than Princess Kitana, who put up a good fight but in the end didn’t stand a chance against her. While the princess laid half on the ground, (Y/n) was given the option to either finish her off or spare her. Despite (Y/n) choosing mercy, Kitana didn’t take this defeat well, but did her best to maintain her composure as the two retreated inside to tend to their wounds.

“...Why did you—,” Kitana began in a low whisper. (Y/n) turned to her and helped her hand, palm out, in front of her chest.

“You’re an excellent fighter. One with true talent, princess, believe me.” (Y/n) chuckled, “To take a life such as yours would be a waste. Don’t let one little defeat become a deterrence.”

The ghost of a smile graced Kitana’s lips. “You know, you’re a fool to be so kind to your enemies. The next time we meet might not be under such pleasant circumstances.”

(Y/n) huffed, “A fool, yes, but at the very least I’ll be remembered for it.”

———

The fighting continued on without the two girls for a while until Shang Tsung granted an intercession. (Y/n) made her way to Liu Kang’s side and nodded at him. He glanced down at her neatly bandaged hands and huffed in amusement, knowing damn well that when they returned home, his companion planned on showing off her “battle scars” to Kung Lao in an attempt to impress him. As they waited for the next match to begin, Liu Kang filled her in on what she’d missed during the Johnny Cage versus Reptile fight.

“I wish you could of been here to see it, (Y/n). I got second hand embarrassment from how arrogant he sounded.” Liu rolled his eyes.

(Y/n) stifled a giggle and covered her smile with her hand, but as she did this, she noticed one particular bodyguard’s eyes watching her intently from behind his helmet.

He was a bit of a distance away, but somehow it felt like his stare was burning through (Y/n)’s skull, and the very thought of that sent a chill down her spine. She awkwardly cleared her throat and turned to face the other direction, her fingers slightly latching onto Liu Kang’s arm defensively.

The rest of the day was nothing short of eventful. Raiden had requested that she accompanied him into the underground sections of the island, where she became acquainted with Sonya Blade and Jax, and even got to witness Sonya fight a man named Kano. Johnny Cage and Liu Kang eventually joined them, and there they established a sort of team while Raiden explained the severity of losing the tournament.

Afterwards Sonya and (Y/n) parted ways with the men and accompanied each other to their designated bedrooms, which, luckily, were located across from each other. As they walked, the two women got to know each other a little better. Sonya told (Y/n) more about how she came to meet Jax, her life in the army, and how she eventually ended up on the island. In turn, (Y/n) told her about her life with the White Lotus Society and Raiden. They went back and forth, trading silly childhood and training tales until they came across a certain mural in one of the main hallways.

(Y/n) paused in front of it and smiled fondly at the depiction of a man standing victoriously over his enemy on a great cliff or something of the sort.

She turned to Sonya and smiled excitedly. “The Great Kung Lao,” she explained, “He’s a legend back home. Truly one of the greatest fighters the White Lotus ever produced.”

She proceeded to retell the story of Kung Lao’s victories back in the day, and Sonya listened intently.

“So that’s your motive then, huh?” Sonya chuckled.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well I’ve got my mission to save Jax, Cage wants his fame... what about you? What’s your motive? Aside from the monks selecting you, that is.”

(Y/n) glanced back up at the mural, then back to Sonya. “A descendent of his— the great Kung Lao, I mean.” Suddenly (Y/n) felt incredibly shy and began to fiddle with her hands.

“Liu Kang?” Sonya tilted her head.

“No!” (Y/n) exclaimed, laughing slightly, “A friend of ours, actually.” As she spoke, her tone was laced with a certain fondness.

Sonya smiled, “A friend?”

“Yes, Miss Blade. A friend. Anyways, he helped me create all of my best moves. I hate to admit it, but I basically modeled my fighting style after what he taught me when we were kids.” (Y/n) faintly blushed and smiled to herself.

“So... that’s it then? You want to impress him?”

“I mean— I just—,” (Y/n) struggled to find words, “I mean of course that’s not all of it. Of course I’m here to protect the Earthrealm first, but...”

She glanced up at the mural once more.

“I don’t know, I want him to see how much I’ve improved recently.”

Truth be told, (Y/n) had always admired Kung Lao growing up, but it wasn’t until around their late teens or early twenties that she’d began to admire him a little more than usual. And because of that she’d begun to lose her focus around him. Sure, he had always been terribly strong, smart, and witty beyond compare, but as they grew (Y/n) began to notice how charming he was or how nice he looked without his gear on.

Or even how differently he treated her compared to everyone else.

———

The next day the fighters returned to the island’s arena. Shang Tsung and the monks took to their spots while Quan Chi stood at the foot of the throne.

Liu Kang and (Y/n) exchanged anxious glances At eachother. After the events of last night, (Y/n) could tell her friend’s nerves were a little shaken, despite how composed he seemed. She silently patted his back as a masked guard crossed his arms and moved a little closer to where they stood with Raiden.

“Kombatants! the next match will now begin!”

In a burst of flames, Scorpion teleported into the center of the arena. Everyone gasped in awe, and (Y/n) and Liu Kang shared looks of pure admiration.

“Scorpion!” Shang Tsung called out, “Specter of the Netherrealm! Resurrected by the sorcerer Quan Chi! Who among you is worthy of this challenge?”

“Where is the Lin Kuei Sub-Zero? He killed my family and clan. I will have his head!” The masked man snarled.

Without order, the mask guard standing closest to Raiden promptly walked to the center with Scorpion, discarding his mask and armor as he went.

“I accept the challenge!”

(Y/n)’s face fell. She knew that voice, and it definitely wasn’t Sub-Zero. She looked up at Liu with a worried expression, and he returned her stare with his own.

“Kung Lao?” He whispered as he turned back to the two men standing before them.

“Nevermind the Lin Kuei. Now you face a Shaolin.” He announced.

“Kung Lao, what are you doing here?” (Y/n) muttered under her breath.

The man ran two fingers over the brim of his razor sharp hat and turned his vision toward where (Y/n) stood with Raiden and Liu Kang. He pointed directly at the girl.

“(Y/n).”

Oh god.

“I dedicate my soon to be victory to you, my most prized companion.” He said firmly.

She looked around the arena at the other fighters with a mortified expression and caught Sonya and Johnny hiding their smiles under their hands.

“Please don’t do this, Kung Lao.” (Y/n) begged, sweat beginning to form on her temple from the sudden embarrassment she was feeling.

“It has to be done.” He said, assuming a fighting stance.

“All this nonesense to impress (Y/n) (L/n),” Scorpion huffed, “You will regret your impulsiveness.”

The fight commences, and although Kung Lao is a master of the Shaolin arts and a great fighter, his attempt at overpowering someone who’s spent years trapped in the Neatherrealm soon proved to be futile. (Y/n) could feel herself cringe at every severe blow Scorpion landed to Lao’s torso until he ultimately beat him into an unconscious state on the floor.

(Y/n) tore away from the crowd and rushed to Lao’s side, swiftly but gently lifting his torso onto her lap, cradling his head in her arms as his hat laid in the dirt beside them. Scorpion looked down at her, the pity in his eyes seemed almost unbearable to (Y/n).

“He is not yet a warrior. I apologize, (L/n), I did not mean to cause you embarrassment.” He nodded.

(Y/n) shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Don’t be sorry, Scorpion. There’s no bad blood between us.”

“Kung Lao!” Liu cried out shortly after as he jogged over to aid them.

He thre Kung Lao’s arm over his shoulder and housed him up, carrying him out of the arena as Lao came to. Raiden and (Y/n) followed shortly behind.

“Listen when your elders speak!” He scolded, “You could not win this fight! And lost it at the expense of both you and dear (Y/n)’s expense!”

“Master, please, that’s enough. He meant no harm.” (Y/n) defended as they entered the main hall.

Raiden sighed angrily, “Take him to the nursery and get him cleaned up.” With that, he turned back around.

———

“Are you sure you want to tend to his wounds by yourself? It’d go a lot faster with my help...” Liu Kang said as he stood in the doorway.

“It’s fine, Liu,” (Y/n) waved him off, “It’d look bad if both of us weren’t present during today’s fights.”

(Y/n) turned around and subtly motioned to Kung Lao, who was spread out on a bench, and shot Liu an expecting look that said, ‘Get out, dumbass, I want to speak with him in private.’

Liu Kang mouthed a silent ‘oh,’ in realization and nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Take care of him, and I’ll be back later to check on the two of you.”

He eagerly left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving the two together in awkward silence.

(Y/n) sighed and turned to the cabinets to retrieve a towel and bandages.

Kung Lao sat up and huffed in annoyance, “Why must the two of you talk about me as if I’m not here, (Y/n)? I’m perfectly capable of tending to myself, you don’t have to stay.”

(Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows together but said nothing. She continued on gathering her materials and laid them out on the counter beside them.

“Are you upset with me? Is that what this is?”

Still nothing.

“What? Do you want me to apologize? Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, (Y/n)—,”

“Why are you here, Lao!?” She interrupted sharply.

He scoffed, “Proving I’m equivalent to Liu Kang.”

(Y/n) shook her head angrily. “Why!?” She dipped her small towel in a bowl of water and squeezed it. “You don’t have to prove anything, I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t—,”

“Then help me here, Lao. Explain— Did Raiden... or the elder monks— did they say something to you?”

“That’s not it.” He glanced down.

“Did something happen? I don’t—,”

“It’s you, (Y/n). You’re the reason.” He blurted.

The room was silent again.

“Oh.”

(Y/n) slowly turned around and made her way over to Kung Lao, beckoning for him to give her his arm. She avoided his gaze as she placed the damp towel over a large gash in his shoulder.

“I’m very sorry then... Whatever I did, I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.” The heartbreak in her tone was prominent.

Kung Lao sighed, “No— sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s my fault.”

(Y/n) paused, “What do you mean?”

Lao timidly placed a hand on her shoulder. (Y/n) looked up at him in confusion and scanned his face. He was giving her the same look he had on the morning she left for the tournament. The one that made it seem like he desperately wanted to say something but didn’t know how, or couldn’t muster up the courage to flat out say it.

Kung Lao groaned and burried his face in her other shoulder.

“I like you.” He mumbled, “There, I finally said it. It’s foolish, isn’t it? That I did all of this just because I wanted you to admire me back? I knew the elder monks didn’t choose me for a reason. I’m sure I couldn’t have handled the tournament, anyways—,”

“That’s not it at all!” (Y/n) cried, gingerly wrapping her arms around his torso, “It’s my fault you weren’t chosen, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t understand,” He said, looking up.

(Y/n) sighed, “It was originally supposed to be us two. At the tournament, I mean. The elders said our fighting styles complimented eachother the most out of the three of us. But then I started to slip up during training whenever you were around. I’m sorry, I thought they’d replace me with Liu Kang, but—,”

“They replaced me instead...” Kung Lao finished.

“You are no lesser of a great fighter than Liu Kang. It truly is my fault, Lao.” (Y/n) confessed.

Kung Lao blinked and was silent for a moment. “So... you were slipping up because...?” A cheeky smile slowly made its way onto his face.

(Y/n) signed and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

“I like you too, you idiot monk. I always have.”

Kung Lao laughed, “Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“What didn’t you tell me!?” (Y/n) argued playfully.

“What? Was doing all your chores and things not enough of a sign for you?”

“Well, clearly they weren’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been so stressed over the matter.”

“Oh goodness...” Kung Lao chuckled.

They two sat there, holding each other, for a moment until (Y/n) pulled away.

“I have to finish cleaning your wounds, Lao.”

He nodded and sat up straight, removing his shirt so (Y/n) could clean the wounds on his chest.

As he looked down at her hands, gently pressing the towel to his wounds, applying the medicine where needed, and wrapping them up neatly, his eyes couldn’t help but trail over her lips. This wasn’t the first time, naturally, but know that he had confirmation that she was finally his...

He swooped down and captured her hips with his in a chaste but sweet kiss that lasted no more than a few seconds. (Y/n) stared up at him in surprise.

“Too soon?” He half laughed.

She shook her head, “Not at all.” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back down for a real kiss.

Their lips locked softly once again, and the two of them could feel the sense of pure joy and excitement building up in their chests. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered closed as Kung Lao deepened the kiss. As Lao moved his lips against hers, it tasted sort of metallic from the dried blood that remained on Lao’s lips beforehand, but (Y/n) didn’t seem to mind.

When they finally pulled away, Kung Lao rested chin on top of (Y/n)’s head.

“You’re a fool, Kung Lao,” (Y/n) said endearingly.

He kissed her hair and let out a small laugh.

“For you, perhaps.”

[x688plsloveme]

Companions react to someone saying something Insanely insulting to them and a usually calm Sole loses their shit, as in whoops their ass?

In their pre-war profession, Sole learned to take a lot of shit. They even had a retail job when they were a teenager, so most of what the average wastelander could spit out was usually nothing in comparison.

They'd just pretend the person in front of them was a usual customer and tune them out until they were done. Most regarded them as having the patience of a saint. They just thought it was due to not growing up in an overly impatient wasteland.

Either way, Sole had never even come close to the volume that they used on this idiot.

No one talked bad about their friends, no one. So when they heard the insults thrown at one of their best friends? They went off. Hurling anything and everything that came to mind at the dumb wastelander that thought it was a good idea to mess with them and theirs.

ADA: Although she wasn't hurt by the random human she didn't even care to know, she was touched by Sole's anger on her behalf. She was a tad surprised that her usually mellow was acting in such a way, but quickly adapted to the situation. She allowed Sole to continue their loud ranting for a few moments longer until gently stopping them. "Before he urinated on himself." Was her excuse. Sole snorted and told her it'd be funny, but ultimately let him go because Ada was probably right.

CAIT: The only thing that could've stopped her from punching the waster's lights out herself was the shock she saw from her well mannered friend. It literally stopped her mid-punch. All she could do was look slack mouthed as Sole ripped into the man in front of them verbally. They were usually the one who told her to ease up on her aggression, so seeing this was a treat indeed.

CODSWORTH: The only other time he saw his sir/mum blow up so.... Loudly. Was when they thought their spouse was cheating on them. To see them so upset over someone calling a mere Mr Handy names...it was truly moving. He was sure to clean up around their settlement extra meticulously as thanks.

CURIE: Sole was a sweet person, particularly to her who didn't know the ways of the wasteland quite yet. They were always calm and collected and Curie always admired them for it. Especially in a proverbial hell hole such as this. So the loud, started gasp she let out at Sole's outburst was very much granted. She had a million questions running through her mind that she had to ask as soon as possible. And she did, right after Sole drove away the rude man that sparked their wrath.

DANSE: He was very grateful to his friend for sticking up for him so readily. He didn't have the best mental state, and it seemed Sole picked up on how the insults were affecting him. He guessed that someone that would save his life would care enough to stand up for him, but seeing it - especially from such a nice person - was something else. He gave them a very long hug afterwards.

DEACON: He feels like he should be most surprised of all, seeing as he had been following them up until they discovered the railroad. Not once has Sole ever raised their voice that high, let alone rudely and directed towards another person. He was frozen in place, completely shell shocked. It was only later that he realized they blew a fuse because of what that nobody waster was saying about him. He felt tears as he thought about how much Sole has to care about him even though they don't really know him. He vowed to tell them the real, genuine truth next time he saw them.

DOGMEAT: He was a smart dog, but not even he could keep up with all the strange words Sole used. He had no idea what a "mutfruit humper" was, but he did recognize the angry tone his owner was using. He decided to help by growling alongside Sole to back them up. He kept rapt attention to the now distressed waster that was the object of their wrath in case they tried anything funny. After the whole ordeal was over, Sole spoiled him a little harder than usual, much to his immense pleasure. Extra snacks are always a good thing in his book.

HANCOCK: "I always knew you had in in ya Sole!" He proceeds to laugh until his stomach hurts. Seeing someone as calm as Sole losing it? Comedy gold in his eyes. He does give his best friend a hug when they're done though. He appreciates them so, so much for caring about a worthless ghoul like him. Doesn't mean he's not gonna retell this story to each and everyone of Sole's friends though.

GAGE: When he heard the yelling, he just thought it was more raiders causing a ruckus as usual. But when he identified the voice as his one and only calm overboss, he did a double take. Even as the boss of raiders, he had never seen Sole blow up at anybody, let alone raise their voice. He knew they were loyal sort, but he didn't know it was to this extent. It made his otherwise cold heart warm a bit at the thought that he was one of the people his boss was fiercely loyal to.

LONGFELLOW: He didn't have many people close in his life, so Sole was like a ray of sunshine in an otherwise foggy world. They were very pleasant to get along with and actually seemed to enjoy his stories, which was rare with people that young. They would often sit next to each other in complete silence and just relax without any awkwardness whatsoever. He didn't believe what the others told him about them going ape-shit on people who've insulted their friends until he saw it himself. Now... He enjoyed the calm and quiet, but he would be a liar if this wasn't the funniest shit he'd ever seen. When they were done scaring away the waster that had the bad luck of running into them, he pat an out of breath Sole with a smile on his face.

MACCREADY: He always thought himself as a pretty laid-back guy, but not even he could hold a candle to have chill Sole was. He never ever ever thought he'd EVER see them yell at somebody over a couple insults. Sure, they were directed at a close friend, but it was still jarring. Heck, seeing them flip reminded him of his younger years when the Lone Wanderer would scold him for being rude. He almost let out a few involuntary sorrys himself.

PIPER: As someone who liked getting Intel on everyone and everything, Piper was curious to what Sole looked like when they got truly mad. She heard everything from amusing to scary and just about everything in between, but all she wanted to do was see it for herself. It took a while of her tagging along whenever Sole went, but it was well worth it when some rando finally picked on her bad enough that it send Sole over the edge. Seeing it for herself, she could attest that all of their comments were correct ones.

PRESTON: He didn't like yelling at all, which is part of the reason he enjoyed Sole's company so much. He had never seen anyone so composed while face danger or the rare rude retort. They always took care of it gracefully. No one glanced twice at a mere minuteman soldier like himself, so he had never been witness to one of Sole's rare "blow ups" that he had heard from some of their other friends. But the day it happened.... Well let's just say he was very humbled for not only being cared about so much, but also the sheer force of their yelling was scary enough to remind him of him mother whenever his siblings got into trouble.

STRONG: Needless to say, he is very happy with these turn of events even if he doesn't quite grasp why Sole is doing this. As it stands, it hypes him up to the point that he joins in the yelling and the two of them make whoever was foolish enough to insult him in front of Sole scared out of their minds.

VALENTINE: He always appreciated how calm and collected his friend was. They were always on the same page in that sense. Never letting anything bother them for too long, even if it was truly personal. Just looking ahead and forgetting about things that could sway them from their goals. Nothing could have surprised him more than Sole suddenly started screaming at a particularly rude waster that would not leave him alone. He didn't even know his friend was there until they started screaming. It made him happy to know that the one time they lose their cool, it was for him.

X6-88: No one admires Sole like he does. There's no one else that could earn his respect, let alone friendship. His friend was always on his wavelength - serene and collected in even the most stressful situations. Sure, no one had insulted him quite like the random waster, but he was ready to scoff and brush him off like any other. He refused to admit that he was hurt even slightly, but it seemed like Sole was as sharp as ever and picked up on it. He never in a million years would've guessed that they could carefully and precisely cut into a person with mere words. But he also never guessed that Sole would ever raise their voice so he supposes surprises are a given. As he watched his one and only friend defend him, he let a small, rare smile show on his face.

[the-great-lightwood-bane]

(and if i couldn't walk) i'd crawl to you

Chapter 2 of 2 (Chapter 1)

Malec | Rated general | tw blood and injury

Day 24: Blood Covered Hands | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Summary: Magnus didn’t know how he could survive losing Alec.

A close call with a demon brings some suppressed emotions to light, and Alec surprises Magnus yet again. (aka I make Malec immortal, again.) 

A/N: I wasn't planning to continue this but I decided against the fic I was considering writing for the 24th, so I wrote this instead! (psst Stubbrn this is for you) 

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

Jace’s message saved Alec’s life. 

Magnus had caught it out of the air while in his apothecary, eyes scanning the bare lines for barely long enough to understand the meaning before he was building a portal and running, sprinting along the street towards the prone figure at the mouth of an alleyway. His mouth formed Alec’s name as he recognised the torn patrol gear, the stretched-out arm. 

Alec was breathing, chest rising and falling although far too slowly, a pulse fluttering at his neck. 

His stomach was torn open, blood pulsing out and pooling beneath him, a trail of darker dried blood leading back to a mess of ichor and blood at the back of the alley. Magnus’ magic wrapped around him without thought, without pause, without hesitation — its only goal was to heal the gaping hole, to ease the pain. He’d never specialised in healing magic, but now he willed the jagged edges together with all the power he could muster, an inefficient healing but an effective one. The ichor burns and smaller scrapes that covered Alec’s skin faded under the sheer force of magic. Only when Alec was stabilised, his breathing regular although his eyes were shut, did Magnus let the magic dissipate and take in the scene. 

Judging by the amount of ichor, there must’ve been at least twenty demons killed here, most of them presumably at Alec’s hands. Arrows, an impressive arsenal of knives, and at least three seraph blades were scattered in the ichor; Magnus flicked his fingers to summon the weapons to him. There was Alec’s bow, unstrung and dripping ichor as though several demons had been impaled on it. His stele, broken in the fight. 

Magnus eased Alec into his arms, cradling him against his chest. Magnus’ hands were covered in blood, Alec’s blood, from his clothes and from the ground; it’d been the blood loss more than the injury itself that’d sent Alec unconscious. The blood-replenishing potion Magnus kept in stock would come in handy. 

He summoned a portal back to the loft. 

~

Hours later, after Alec’s siblings had come and gone and Catarina had confirmed that Alec was fine and would wake up soon enough — with a glance at Magnus that told him she knew exactly how much extra energy he’d put into healing Alec properly — Magnus finally sat down at Alec’s bedside, the breath whooshing out of him. 

He took Alec’s hand in his, feeling the beat of his pulse in his fingers, the warmth of his touch. It was a much-needed reassurance; he’d been downright terrified for a continuous half hour between getting Jace’s message, rushing to Alec’s side, and healing him. Unnecessary adrenaline was still pounding through his veins, whispering about what might have happened, what had almost happened, what could happen sometime in the future. The might-have-been, the almost, the what-if. 

Magnus didn’t know how he could survive losing Alec. 

The worst part was that, one day, he’d have to. Alec hadn’t died today, but he was still a Shadowhunter on active patrol duty, and it was part of who he was to risk himself. Even if Alec lived into old age, he’d still die one day, like every mortal Magnus had ever loved — except that Alec was more than anyone else he’d ever loved. 

Shaking his head to clear it of his morose thoughts, Magnus snapped himself into pyjamas and climbed into the bed, curling his body protectively around him. 

Alec would die one day, but he’d lived today, and that was what Magnus needed to focus on. 

~

Magnus was still curled around Alec, fingers running through his hair, when Alec stirred and leaned deeper into Magnus’ chest with a soft sigh. Magnus didn’t stop stroking Alec’s hair, waiting for Alec to wake up fully. 

“Good morning,” Alec murmured, eyes fluttering open, a smile pulling up his lips. Magnus felt himself smile in response, an instinctive thing born of relief and love. 

“Good morning, love. How are you feeling?” 

Alec didn’t immediately say “fine”, which was a good sign that his response was genuine and not an automatic denial that anything could be wrong. “Better,” he said at last. 

Magnus’ magic was already winding around Alec’s injury, clearing away any lingering pain. Alec hummed and relaxed even more into Magnus’ arms. 

Looking at him like this, calm and happy and safe, Magnus was torn between two impulses: the soul-deep love that he wanted to sink into, and the fear of losing all this, pulling him back and away. 

Alec’s eyes blinked open again, as though he’d somehow caught the faint shift in Magnus’ emotions, and he focused on Magnus’ face, brow slightly furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Magnus said, and then regretted it because that was precisely what he was trying to train Alec not to do. Alec raised an eyebrow. 

“I just — I was terrified,” Magnus confessed quietly, a bit of a half-truth but accurate all the same. “I thought — for a moment there, I thought I’d lost you.” 

Alec’s eyes softened and his hold on Magnus grew firmer. “I’m here. I’m alright.” 

“I know,” Magnus replied, shaking his head. You won’t always be, he wanted to say, but that would help nothing. 

“If you know that,” Alec said, “then why are you still looking at me like I’m going to vanish before your eyes?” 

Magnus shut his eyes and turned his head away as though that could help him hide from Alec. “It’s nothing. Residual fear.” 

“This is more than that,” Alec said, still quiet, still gentle, still uncompromisingly loving. “Talk to me, Magnus. When things get tough, don’t push me away.”

In a breath, Magnus’ walls fell, and even though having this conversation could help nothing, the words spilled out anyway to stain this moment like ink. “You survived yesterday, but you won’t always survive. You’ll die one day, of a demon or of old age or of anything else, and there is nothing I can do except ward that moment off for as long as I can.” His eyes were still shut, but he could feel tears leaking out of the corners. 

“You’ve lost people before,” Alec whispered. “You can lose me, Magnus. You can go on.” 

“I’ve never lost anyone like you.” Magnus opened his eyes at last to meet Alec’s, unglamoured, more vulnerable than he’d been with anyone else. “I’ve never loved anyone like you, Alexander, and I don’t know how to go on without you.” 

Alec cupped his face in one hand, cradling it like Magnus was the most precious thing in the world. “I don’t — I’m not that special, Magnus.”

Magnus let out a half-strangled laugh. “You are everything, Alexander. You are special, you are unique, you are more to me than anyone else. I don’t want to do this anymore, living with the knowledge that you’ll leave me one day through no fault of your own. It’s worth it, to have you now, but it breaks my heart every time I think about it, breaks my heart in a greater way than anyone else ever has. I want — I want a hundred selfish things, and the most selfish of all is that I want never to lose you.” 

There was an uncertainty, a disbelief, in Alec’s eyes, as though he couldn’t quite comprehend the reality of meaning more to Magnus than anyone else had before. More than that, though, there was something more like pain, like the ache in Magnus’ soul reflected back in Alec’s eyes. “I don’t want you to lose me, either,” Alec whispered. “It’s not selfish to want that.” 

He didn’t understand what Magnus meant. Shaking his head, Magnus traced patterns down Alec’s back. “I mean that I don’t want to ever lose you. Not today, not tomorrow, not in a hundred years, not in a thousand. I’m selfish enough to want you for my forever, not a mortal lifetime, because I can never have enough of you.” 

“I know what you meant,” Alec said, certainty on his tongue. “And I want it, too.” 

Magnus sat up quickly enough that Alec couldn’t hold him. “You don’t mean that. You don’t actually mean that. Nobody in their right mind would want that, Alexander, and I can’t hear you say that as though things could be anything but what they are.”

Alec sat up as well and caught hold of his arm. “I want to become immortal, Magnus, to stay with you as long as you’ll have me. I want it, and if that makes me out of my mind, then I don’t see much value in being in my right mind. I want that, Magnus.” 

For a still moment, Magnus watched him, cataloguing every expression of his face in expectation of finding a lie there, an uncertainty, a naïvté about what he was signing up for. 

There was nothing but love for him to find, and Magnus fell into his arms like his strings had been cut, like Alec was a star to pull him in. There were tear-tracks on his face, and he cradled Alec gently to protect the place where he’d been injured, and they still hadn’t talked about the practicalities of becoming immortal — but Alec wanted this, and that was everything. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered into Alec’s chest, curling around him while Alec held him close in a reversal of their earlier positions. “Don’t leave me, Alexander, don’t you ever leave me—”

“I won’t,” Alec said, soothingly, calmly, an oath that wrapped around Magnus like the warmth of Alec’s arms. “I’m never going to leave you.” 

Magnus let himself believe it.

[apocalypseornaw]

One Condition

For the square "Friends to lovers" on @girl-next-door-writes make me feel bingo

Side note Bobby is alive in this cause screw canon

No real warnings besides cursing and lots of fluff

First meeting

You had just thrown your bags into the trunk of your nova when your cell phone started ringing. You cursed under your breath and ran to the front seat to grab it. You barely glanced at the screen but recognized the number instantly.

You answered with a smile on your face “Bobby! How are you doing?” You could hear other voices in the background but that wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence.

Bobby was pretty much one of the few people that tried to coordinate the efforts of hunters and offered a place to crash and or get patched up to those he was close with. “As good as I ever am sweetheart. Look I got some boys here that are hunting a witch and since you’re a bit more attuned with that type of thing from everything your uncle taught you I was wondering if you could lend them a hand” You didn’t even think about it before you said “Of course. I’m about three hours from you but I’ll head that way” if Bobby was asking you to work with them they could be trusted. You heard him call someone in the background an idjit before he told you to drive safe and hung up.

------

“You think this chick can handle a witch better than me and Sam Bobby?” Dean was a bit skeptical about Bobby calling in another hunter to back them up. “Son, her uncle raised her and he was a witch. She didn’t pick up a lot from him but she knows enough to spot the signs and had a few defensive maneuvers up her sleeve. Give her a chance, I’ve known her for years and she’s just as good a hunter as either of you”

The sound of an engine pulling up drew their attention. Sam stepped around the corner from the kitchen with a bottle of water in his hand and motioned to the door “That her?” Bobby tilted his head slightly and listened for a moment before nodding “Yeah that’s her nova” 

Dean and Sam both followed Bobby out to the porch. You parked just behind the impala and killed your engine before climbing out your car. Bobby walked down the steps to greet you and a smile slipped onto your face the moment you saw him “Bobby!” you hugged him and he did his usual checklist to ensure your last hunt was successful and you hadn’t had no recent injuries before finally turning his attention back to the two standing on the porch watching the two of you greet each other “These the boys I told you about” he started so Sam of course stepped up first and extended his hand “I’m Sam. That’s my older brother Dean” you shook Sam’s hand with a smile “Name’s Y/N”

Dean nodded at you but you could see how skeptic he was about working with you. “Hold on..Sam and Dean? John’s sons” Dean nodded again so you turned back to Bobby not meaning to talk about the Winchesters in front of them but needing to ask “I thought they didn’t really work with other hunters? Did they change their policy since their dad died?”

Dean cleared his throat so you looked back at him. He gave you a smile that was much more sarcasm than friendly “Sweetheart we can answer questions for ourselves.” You laughed sharply before replying “My name isn’t sweetheart darling and I was just making sure the two of you had worked up to the point of playing well with others. I see your brother has manners but from where I’m standing I ain’t too impressed with yours”

You brushed past Dean into the house so he begrudgingly followed you. Bobby whispered to Sam “Either they’ll work well together or the witch will be distracted enough by their fighting you should be able to kill her easy enough”

Friends?

“Can I ask you one thing sweetheart” Dean spoke from the other side of the motel room and you cut your eyes up with a raised eyebrow “What?” He motioned to where you were currently painting your nails “I mean what I’m about to say in the least offensive way possible”

“Not a good way to start a conversation with a woman who is armed and can kick your ass but do please continue” you replied and he laughed before holding his hands up defensively “It’s just..you’re a hunter and one of the best I know. You’re pretty badass in my opinion but you always have your nails painted and yeah it’s normally a dark color but I was just curious as to why”

You let a sly grin slip onto your face as you closed the nail polish and placed it back into your bag “It comes in handy” “How so?” he asked so you shot him a wink “You’ll see”

------

Later that night you and the boys headed back to the motel to catch a little sleep before parting ways the next morning. Dean stopped you just outside your room door “C’mon Y/N tell me how you knew who the shifter was” you stopped and leaned back against the doorframe glancing over where Sam was watching you and his older brother with an amused smile.

You held up one hand and wiggled your fingers. Dean looked confused for a moment then realization flashed across his face “Does your nail polish have silver in it?” You grinned “Silver infused basecoat and that my dear is why my nails are always painted” 

He nodded approvingly “Smart and yet again proves my point of why you’re one of the best hunters I know” you touched the tender spot on your side when the shifter had thrown you into a wall and probably would’ve went for a killing blow had Dean not been there “You’re not so bad yourself Dean, in fact I would say you’ve finally learned how to play well with others” Sam laughed but Dean simply grinned “Only took a few years of knowing you huh?”

“What can I say? I’m a miracle worker even with seemingly lost causes” he shook his head with a light laugh “Goodnight Y/N” “Night Dean,Night Sam” after Sam wished you a goodnight you walked into your room and shut the door behind yourself. Who would’ve thought all those years before when you first met the brothers that they’d end up being your two closest friends?

Maybe more?

Dean stopped in his tracks when he walked into Bobby’s living room and saw you curled up on the couch fast asleep. You had grabbed his discarded jacket from the arm of the couch and was using it as a pillow. A small smile slipped onto his face at seeing you were finally resting so he grabbed one of the blankets Bobby kept in the hall closet to spread across your legs. You moved slightly in your sleep and for just a moment he worried he may have woken you up but you were simply burrowing further into his jacket and the blanket.

He walked quietly back into the kitchen and sat down at the table across from Bobby “She doing ok?” Bobby asked, nodding back towards you.  “Yeah she’s finally asleep. I’ve been worried about her these last few days” in truth you had done something incredibly stupid while also simultaneously brave.

You, him and Sam had gone up against a coven and you’d taken the brunt of a spell protecting him without even knowing what the spell could do. He had felt an ice cold jolt of fear when you’d gone down. He was afraid when he made it to your side that you’d be gone. Thankfully you were stronger than given credit by the witches. They’d gotten you into the impala and Dean hadn’t come under ninety getting you to Bobby’s.

Bobby being well Bobby had an antidote waiting but apparently it’d take a few days to get your system back right after the shock of the spell. The last week and a half you’d gone through shivering spells hard enough you’d cracked a tooth only to spike a fever the next moment.

You hadn’t kept much to eat down and sleep had been out of the question completely. You’d been in and out of it and Dean hadn’t left your side for a second even refusing to go into town if anything was needed. That’s where Sam currently was.

“You care about her don’t you?” Bobby asked, forcing Dean out of his thoughts about you. “What? Of course I do, she’s my friend” Bobby sighed in frustration with the younger man who was like a son to him and just as stubborn “Dean that’s not what I meant” that made Dean really stop to consider what Bobby was saying. Did he have romantic feelings for you?

When was the last time he’d sought another woman? It just seemed natural to spend time with you after a hunt or just crash. When he needed to talk to someone he’d call you if the two of you weren’t around each other. He always looked forward to seeing a smile on your face and when it was because of him? There wasn’t a better feeling. You’d become such an important part of his life over the years he hadn’t even realized it.

When you’d gotten hurt this time and he faced the very real possibility of losing you it had just confirmed what he’d already known deep down. You were who he wanted in his life. You were the most amazing woman he’d ever met, you kept him on his toes and made him strive to be a better man every day although you never missed an opportunity to tell him just how good of a man he already was. “Bobby..” he started but was silenced with a look “Don’t tell me son. Save it for when Y/N wakes up then you two need to have a talk”

------

When you slowly started to wake up you felt like you’d been hit by a bus. Christ what had happened? Everything was a little foggy. You caught a whiff of gunpowder,leather and cinnamon and memories started flooding back. Dean. That damn witch had thrown a spell at him!

You sat up quickly only for a wave of dizziness to push you back down. You then realized your pillow had in fact been Dean’s jacket. Where was he? Was he ok? “Dean?” you called weakly calming slighty when you recognized your surroundings as Bobby’s living room.

You heard footsteps and looked up to see him walking into the room with a worried smile “You’re awake” you nodded slowly being careful to not cause another wave to push you back under and started to sit up much more carefully this time. He stepped forward to help you then sat down next to you so you leaned your head over on his shoulder with your legs curled up under you while you turned to face him on the couch. 

“Are you ok?” you asked, voice slightly muffled due to the fact that your face was buried in his shirt. He laughed slightly which caused you to pull back enough to look at him “Why are you laughing at me?” he raised one hand to gently cup the side of your face “You’re asking if I’m ok while you’ve spent the last week and a half going through everything this side of torture because you decided it was best to shove me out the way and take that blast for yourself” you grimaced slightly “Well at least we’re both alive”

You realized he was still holding your face and probably would’ve been embarrassed had you not been fighting the urge to curl up against his chest and go back to sleep. “Why?” he asked and you were confused for a moment before you realized he was asking why you’d saved him. “Because whether you believe it or not Dean you’re worth saving time and again” he smiled slightly and opened his mouth to talk but you raised a hand before he could “Wait let me get this out while you feel bad and may not make fun of me later if it backfires I can blame it on the after effects”

You might as well confess your feelings now considering you’d nearly died for him. When he nodded you took a deep breath then said “Dean I’ve had feelings for you for a while. I couldn’t very well just let you die. It was worth the risk” “Can I speak now?” he asked with a slight smile so you nodded. He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before saying “I feel the same way about you. When you’re better I want to take you on an actual date, ya know actually romance you but for now thank you and please don’t ever scare me like that again”

You smiled slightly then said “On one condition” “Which is?” he asked so you motioned to his chest “Can I go back to sleep on you?” He laughed and pulled you into his lap “For as long as you want”

 @girl-next-door-writes

[raventroll80]

A Beast on Mars

Chapter Three: The Last Human on Mars

In this chapter we are introduced to a new character and get to see what the start of the invasion looked like from their eyes. Meanwhile, on his way to the Gore Nest, the Slayer makes a tragic mistake...

Heads up this chapter contains a lot of death and a fair amount of blood and swearing

Mim Digsby was a rather unremarkable person, they were just below average height with a somewhat stocky build, but they never thought it’d come in handy until they had to hide from the risen corpse of a security guard. They usually kept their hair short as they felt it was more hassle than it was worth, though they never thought they’d be grateful for it until they watched a co-worker get dragged into the vents by her hair. Mim mostly worked maintenance now, and knew the vents like the back of their hands, but they never knew that it’d ever save them from the demons that now prowled the halls of the UAC.

It had started like any other day, Mim had been scheduled to do some basic maintenance on some machinery in the morning before switching to excavation in the afternoon… that was until the screaming had started. One of the security guards had gone to investigate but seconds later he came running back firing at something howling behind him, then the something pounced on him and began to disembowel the man.

Mim and their co-workers had immediately fled the room only for another one of these…  things to jump them. The only warning they had gotten was the stench of sulfur and a flash of red light before that thing, that demon just appeared. It stood maybe six, maybe seven feet tall, its body was covered in thick yellow chitin with jagged spikes jutting out of its body. Its eyes, god its eyes…  they burned into them like argent. Mim watched as the imp gutted Samson in one swift motion, his body had dropped like a sack of hammers, his blood spilling out onto the floor. Mim could still hear his screams as the demon didn’t even wait for him to bleed out, thank god they hadn’t looked. The lockdown alarms were blaring but the doors refused to shut, something was wrong with the protocols… if the lockdown wouldn’t engage properly then there’d be nowhere for people to hide. Emerson, a technician, suggested that they go and manually engage the lockdown at the southside control room, given their lack of options everyone agreed to go. But things only got worse from there.

Mim had to lead the small group of survivors through the maintenance tunnels, during this they had passed through an observation deck where a large almost ape like monster shattered the glass. Georges and Amsbury got dragged out by the air pressure while Harris had been grabbed the massive monster. Within seconds their group of five became a band of two, Mim and Emerson had barely made it to the cargo elevator when they were jumped by yet another imp. It had managed to slash Emerson across the chest before Mim was able to blast its head apart with the shotgun she had taken from a dead guard. The demon slumped over, it’s bright red blood pooling on the floor. Mim had tried their best to stop the bleeding but it just kept pouring out. They tried convincing Emerson to come and look for a medical station, but he refused, claimed that he was fine, that it only looked worse than it actually was…

God why did they believe him…

As the elevator came to a stop the two heard the chime that accompanied an announcement over the intercom, but instead of VEGA or some other automated message it was Dr. Pierce and pit formed in their stomachs as she spoke.

“I believe in honesty, especially now, in what will be your final moments in this world. All the rumors, the human sacrifices, the Hell portal, the demons… it’s all true…”

The two gave each other a grave look before climbing the blood-soaked stairs as Dr. Pierce continued her speech.

“My brothers and sisters be thankful, you will be the first, you will have a seat along side them just as I will in what will become the new world, they create for us… starting now…” Instead of another chime indicating the broadcast was over a demonic scream blared over the intercoms.

Emerson was able to stop the broadcast from repeating before forcing the lockdown protocols to engage. The technician looked out over the Martian landscape, the blue sunrise slowly creeping over the horizon.

“If Pierce is already on their side, then how many of the others are too… if we just leave it on then some, some cultist could just swing by and turn the lockdown back off. Hel- fuck, we don’t even know if VEGA is still on our side!” Emerson said in frustration, staring down at the consol with a contemplative look.

“Then what do you think we should do…”

“You think you can shut the power off?”

“Yea, there’s a main generator not too far from here. I can use the access vents to get to it. What are you going to do?” Mim asked, not entirely sure what to make of the situation.

“I’m gonna lock VEGA out from accessing the terminal digitally. If he’s really on our side then he can come turn the power back on himself.”

Emerson initiated some sort of malware or firewall before giving Mim the go ahead and Mim jumped down into the maintenance vent. Through the dark tunnels of wires and metal Mim crawled, until they found the main generator. They logged into the access terminal and shut off the power to the Res Ops facility. Mim hoped they’d given people enough time, or that there were any people left. It was deathly quiet as the facility shifted to emergency power. Normally it wouldn’t, but with the emergency lockdown protocol in effect prior to main power shutdown the facility forces the use of the backup generators. The quiet of the facility felt crushing as Mim crawled back to the control room. Something felt off as the mechanic drew near. It was too quiet, something was missing…

“Emerson!” Mim called out as they realized that they could no longer hear the technicians ragged breathing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” they muttered as they scrambled out of the vent but it was too late. Emerson was dead.

The man was slumped over, his back against the console, clothes drenched in blood. Mim took a few shaky breaths as they processed the situation. Chances where the casualties were in the thousands, and if they were being realistic… then Mim Digsby was possibly the last human left on Mars.

“God damn it Emerson… why didn’t you listen to me,” Mim pressed their forehead against Emersons before stumbling out of the control room, their body was still shaking from the shock and reality of the situation. They needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide and hope there was anyone left to rescue them.

Mim didn’t know if it had been hours or days that had passed, somewhere in that time they had managed to find a chainsaw. Why was there a chainsaw on Mars? Who cares, it’s a chainsaw! Like they were just going to pass the offer of a free chainsaw in a time like this. Besides, chainsaws are great communicators when it came to the undead. Just as Mim had finished airing their grievances with a zombie they’d found in a locker room an explosion boomed from outside, causing the lockers to rattle and Mim to jolt and accidentally wedge the chainsaw deeper into the corpse. Before they could try to remove the weapon, another explosion rocked the room and demons began howling as what sounded like heavy artillery went off.

“Was it the marines? The Elite Guard?” Mim abandoned the chainsaw and climbed through an access vent to the offices above to investigate the sounds, though what they saw was far from what they had been hoping for. There, just outside the building was a behemoth of a monster clinging to the very structure they were standing in. The creature appeared to be fighting the demons outside of the locker room, though fighting was a strong word for what was happening, it was more of a bloodbath if anything. The room shook violently as another explosion rocked the cargo bay outside. The glass rattled menacingly but thankfully didn’t shatter, thank god. Mim scurried back from the window as the behemoth slaughtered the last of the demons. In their haste, Mim had knocked over a chair and alerted the massive demon. They had barely made it into the vent before the behemoth was tearing its way into the room.

Mim quietly watched as the massive creature began searching the room. Was it looking for them? God they hoped not, that thing just tore through the building like it was cardboard! Granted this wasn’t the strongest of building in the Mars facility, but the point still stood that this thing, whatever it was, would catch Mim within seconds. The mechanic watched as the creature inspected the health station in an almost curious manner. Tilting its head inquisitively, before turning it slightly as though it were listening to someone or something. Its curiosity apparently satisfied, the great beast turned around and proceeded to smash in the glass to one of the storage rooms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, I need to fucking leave” Mim hissed to themselves and they started to shimmy further into the vent. That glass was at least an inch and a half thick and that thing just shattered it like it was nothing.

Mim heard the creature walk back out to the cargo bay, catching a glimpse of it beginning to scale the wall, it’s clawed gauntlets digging into the stone. Part of them was slightly in awe of the massive beast, but overall Mim was terrified. The massive thing, looked to be nearly 16 feet tall, it could probably eat them in one bite if it wanted to. Mim shuddered at the thought, “Nope, nu-uh, nah…” The monster’s armour was complex, not too unlike that of Hayden’s Elite Guards though it was a deep green colour instead of the guards imposing red and black armour. Though Mim couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d seen it before…

A raspy hiss rattled from behind the mechanic, filling them with dread before sharp claws dug into their legs and dragged them off into the darkness of the facility. Mim was barely able to let out a scream before their head was slammed into the vent and everything went black.

As the Slayer climbed up the walls of the cargo bay, he heard a faint sound echo from below. As quick as it came it was gone, but the sound was unmistakable. It was a scream, and not just any scream; a human scream. The Slayer looked back down to the platform below, should he go look? What if they were already dead? He watched as several field drones entered the room below and fanned out. One of the drones separated from the group and hovered up to him. That familiar chime sounded in his helmet garnering an annoyed growl from the behemoth.

“I apologize for the repeated interruptions but one of the nearby cameras picked up what I believe to be a human scream. The sound originated from this sector and I wanted to know if you heard anything. The cameras have been malfunctioning, replaying audio and visuals from the start of the incident. I do not know what is causing this malfunction but it is impairing my ability to search for survivors so I will need your help in locating any potential survivors.” The Slayer huffed, clearly getting impatient with the AI.

“I do not know what your stance is on humans as a whole, but I can tell you already have a distain for the UAC. But I must ask that you please keep an eye out for any survivors.” VEGA waited for a response from the Slayer, but all he got was a soft growl from the behemoth.

VEGA left the Slayer to return to his mission, concern starting to build in his processors. Could he trust the Slayer to protect, let alone inform him of any survivors? VEGA hadn’t even been able to recover the field drone that he’d destroyed, he couldn’t even find any evidence of its existence aside from a few scraps from the outer shell… did he eat it? No, he couldn’t have. The Slayer may be a brute, but even he should know that a drone wasn’t even remotely edible. Right?

He could only hope the Slayer would be kinder to a human than he was to a machine.

The Slayer followed the elevator tracks up the chasm and into what appeared to be a mining tunnel or a cut-through point in the facility. The tunnel was long and dark, lit only by the dim string of lights that hung from the walls and ceiling. Checking his map, the Slayer confirmed that this was indeed the way forward. The giant grumbled as he walked down the cold tunnel. He was certain there was a faster route to the gore nest but VEGA was (regrettably) right. As much as he wanted to tear the UAC apart, he needed to be mindful of any potential survivors. Sure, the chances of anyone surviving this long were slim, but he didn’t want to take that risk. As he walked through the tunnel he passed by a group of corpses. Bodies both human and demon were strewn about, it appeared this group chose to make this their final stand, though it was clear the battle had no winners. Further investigation revealed that in an attempt to close off the tunnel or possibly destroy the Gore Nest ahead, the workers had loaded containers of explosives onto trolleys and carts, their lids hastily removed in a last-ditch effort to try and blow up the attacking demons.

Slayer thought about taking the explosive with him, but without the detonator they’d be harder to use. As he contemplated the explosives, the Slayer spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Expecting a demon trying to get the drop on him, he whipped around and fired at the wall, but to his horror he watched as some of the pellets tore through the shoulder and upper arm of a human who had seemingly regained consciousness. The Slayer’s heart dropped as he watched the human fell over writhing in pain. Dropping his gun, the Slayer rushed over to the injured human who immediately threw their hands over their head in terror, causing the giant to freeze.

What should he do? There was no way he could make it back to that health station without hurting the human further, even then their chances of survival were essentially zero. Hell, it was nothing more than cruel luck that the blast hadn’t killed the poor man. There was nothing he could do except to try and to give whatever comfort a monster like him could offer…

The Slayer removed his gauntlets and helmet before reaching towards the dying human once more, and again the human flinched as massive clawed hands wrapped around their body and pulled them towards the towering beast. The Slayer tried his best not to hurt the poor thing further, but the human still writhed in pain as he was brought closer to the Unchained Predator. The Slayer softly tried to shush the human but it did little to comfort either of them. It had been centuries since he’d had to comfort something, did he even remember to mourn them?

Briefly the giant considered trying to give the human a hug but chose not to as he was certain the person would only see it as him trying to crush their tired bones. So instead, he opted to gently rub their back with the pad of his thumb, being careful not to touch or aggravate their wounds any further. It was then when the worker looked up at him, bleary eyed and confused, though he wished they hadn’t. He couldn’t stand the guilt. Slayer tried to croak out an apology, but all that came out were garbled bellows before he started to taste blood. He went to try again but stopped when he felt the humans body go limp and watched their eyes gloss over.

The Slayer sighed as he laid the lifeless body back on the ground and put his helmet back on, the fresh blood smearing over old blood and dried gore. The Slayer looked around himself once more as he took in the fact that the last human on Mars just died in his hands, and he was the one to blame. Sorrow quickly turned to anger as he remembered why he was here and that Hell was to blame for this. Checking his map, he confirmed that the Gore Nest was at the end of this godforsaken tomb, and with a vicious snarl he snatched up the crates of explosives and charged down the tunnel with blood on his lips and fury burning in his chest.

Within seconds the Hellwalker found himself at the end of the tunnel looking out into a much larger cargo bay. Across from him, the Gore Nest hung, suspended by thick sinewy cables that attached themselves to gore covered support beams. From his position, the Slayer could see the Gore Nest’s beating heart and a circle of zombies knelt around a sigil. The Unchained Predator threw the crates onto the demonic structure before lobbing a grenade towards it and firing. An explosion shook the room and the Gore Nest screamed in pain and with a running leap the Doom Slayer jumped onto it, shoving the still burning barrel of his shotgun against its putrid heart and fired.

[tartagilicious]

Hi, I've got a bit of a weird request for MLQC. What would be different with an MC who was a player of the game before somehow getting pulled into the first chapter of it? They don't have to have played through everything, but definitely at least up to ch 13, after Lucien's reveal. Which of the guys would notice MC acting weird? Would MC ever tell them? How would they react? How does this mess with the plotline?

😳 wait when I tell you I used to think about this on a daily basis- I’ve never gone into much depth with it though, so I guess now is a better time than ever! let’s say that for drama’s sake, this person has played up to chapter 29, since I think that’s the last chapter she reunites with them after being gone for 6 months.

Lucien:

- In my eyes, this always starts with the MC waking up confused in her apartment. She recognises the area around her based now what she’s seen in the game and is familiar with though she obviously thinks it’s a dream. Until, that it is, there are texts from in game characters that come from the phone on the bedside table. She’s more unsure then.

- She explores the apartment briefly and is freaked out when she recognises the kitchen, but decides that she should try visiting some other places she remembers from the game to try and confirm what’s going on. On the way out, she runs into Lucien, who’s leaving his apartment at the same time. 

- By chapter 29, the last we’ve seen of Lucien is when you’re reunited and he confesses those things to you while he thinks you’re asleep. Because of this, and also because of outside sources, this person understands his situation and his personality much more. There’s a lot less hesitancy, but she isn’t sure what Lucien knows at this point. At the very least, it’s comforting to her that she has the upper hand when he’s not quite smitten for her yet.

- I always end up confiding in Lucien because I’m biased, though normally, that’s obviously not a good idea T-T

- Though of course, early Lucien is very far from a threat, so he notices how bewildered she is to see him and is more concerned than anything. It’s hard to know what to say without completely revealing everything, but I can imagine she’d be struggling either way. She would probably slip up once, maybe referring to something personal between them that hasn’t happened yet out of nerves

- He’d be polite about it, not even a bit wary because I don’t even think the MC knew she had an evol yet, and he’d know that. It’d be better just to assume that she’s spewing nonsense than actually looking very deep into it.

- I have a feeling that this would end up messing with the plot pretty badly, actually. She knows a version of him that doesn’t exist yet, and this would be a singular issue imo. His personality is night and day when comparing to the beginning to how he is currently. It would get her into a lot of trouble either way, but could possibly also force Lucien go undergo development much much earlier

- I can imagine her trying to curve his betrayal. he tells her to meet him at the place he tells her his real motives (the news station?? that skinny and tall building idk ;-;) and she just flat out says no. you can’t leave me if I don’t let you >:)

Victor:

- this!!!!! I have such a soft spot for victor and it shows in how this plays out in my head. Without a doubt, the only person that I would trust with the information that I was pulled into the game is Victor. Throughout most of the game, mostly later chapters, Victor is kind of like her partner — she learns to trust him with almost everything, and they work through the situations they can together. They save each other’s lives countless times. This is a lot for one person to carry while the other is clueless of any of that ever happening.

- Next, I feel like it’s reasonable that she would try to seek out everyone else, and where better to find Victor at this point than LFG? Conveniently, once she gets in the office, Goldman hunts her down to tell her that Victor’s waiting for her in his office to discuss the final terms of investment. talk about nostalgia lol

- personally. I’d feel panicked going up to his office. Victor is a very intimidating guy when you aren’t close to him, and acting as you normally would around him will not only be possibly humiliating but also just not effective at all.

- she would devise a plan in her head and as they talk, would slip in small details that kind of further the plot without revealing too much. so for example, mention how the investment is so important to her because she was an orphan and wants to make a name and prove that anyone can do what they dream to. he’d probably try asking more about that, but if not, she could always go into further detail like how she was injured pretty badly trying to save someone else around that time, but doesn’t really remember why and wants to find this person to see if they’re doing okay. This would advance their relationship like 10 chapters, but it would be pretty hasty. This would just be to let him know who she is and what kind of things the future will contain

- Once he figures out what she’s doing, he’d ask what her purpose is — why did she seek him out? to this, she’d most likely reveal her dilemma, and how she was pulled into this world from hers, and knows what will happen for months in the future because of the circumstances

- whether or not he’d retain this affection that he has for the MC when knowing that she isn’t technically who he’s looking for is up for debate, but regardless, something like that is definitely too good to pass up. he’s always been connected to black swan, and knowing her and enlisting her help would most likely come in handy.

Gavin:

- I think I’ve implied that these events take place somewhere in the first few chapters rather than the first so :( I’ll just continue with that. that might even work better, because it gives them at least a bit of a connection to this person. I don’t really remember what happens in the first few chapters, ngl, but I think it’s pretty calm. 

- Gavin!!!! whether he’s your favourite or not, you can’t deny that this man is a literal pilar of support. he’s the knight in their dynamic, whereas she’s the queen. she knows he’s not as intimidating as he seems, and her immediate friendliness might throw him off a bit, but I think it’d be a good thing. 

- part of the reason he backs off so much in the earlier chapters is so he doesn’t overwhelm her with all of these sudden developments (like coming back to be her personal guard, about black swan, etc) In the original plot, Gavin knows much more than he lets on, always more than the mc does at the very least. 

- this would probably change their relationship a lot. I mean, obviously, whoever this is that’s been pulled into the game is bound to have a different personality to the normal mc. she’s more joking and doesn’t hesitate so much, and obviously is a lot smarter and confident due to knowing the future. she doesn’t have to rely on Gavin for information like the original mc does. instead, she acts with him. 

- this literally takes 27 chapters in the game. when she meets Gavin in that evol institution in ch27, that’s the first time they fight comfortably side by side. 

- Gavin would definitely notice such a drastic change in personality from the shy and kind girl he knew in high school. he might comment on it a few times, but I feel like a personality change is a bit easier to justify, especially since it’d been a few years. she technically has the mc’s memories, so it’s not suspicious or anything. he’d probably eventually let it go.

- though, I think it’s pretty plausible that he’d find out you’re not actually the mc he knows later, maybe by mistake or by you telling him. but by then, he’s also grown attached to this new version of her and doesn’t mind as much.

Kiro:

- you wouldn’t have to tell him you were pulled into the game. he’d know.

-  with his connections as Helios and also just his general memory of the mc, it wouldn’t take very long for him to figure out that she’s not the person he’s been chasing for years. and the mf would probably point it out too, scaring her half to death.

- of course, he doesn’t know how she appeared, just that she did, replacing the actual mc. but, despite how he’s very honest about knowing she isn’t who she says she are, he’s empathetic. it’s hard not to be when she has the mc’s face.

- she’d tell him what happened and how she appeared, partly because she wants to trust him and partly because he seems a bit threatening, but either way, I see him as an eventual ally. she knows the inner workings of everything and would be a great help to him in messing with black swan. they’d pretty much be an unstoppable duo with their combined knowledge.

- as they get closer, she feels it’s necessary to tell him that he doesn’t have to leave to protect her. she can handle herself, and him ever leaving would only cause more grief and make things complicated. he would probably tell her not to worry, that he wouldn’t just leave unprompted. 

- when he ends up leaving anyway, it stings more than it did watching it on a screen. 

- though, that also makes the reunion more memorable, and it would probably go differently as well. maybe kiro is this mc’s LI?? that would be cool asf

[amirajones]

The Pirate and the Runaway Princess pt. 7

I'm not sure what time it was when i awoke but what I knew was last night was something I'd never forget. I saw the clothes scattered on the floor seeing we left a mess and well that's not really too much to worry about at the moment. I adjusted feeling his arm around me seeing he was asleep. Seeing him asleep he seemed harmless but I knew the truth that if he wanted to befriend someone and kill them he could. I started to get up to figure out where my dress was but I was quickly pulled back and when I was able to figure out what was going on, he had a hold of me.

"Morning Luv, where you think your going?" Killian asked

I looked over at him "I was going to get dressed." Amira said

"No, I think you'll stay here like this till I say so." Killian said as he moved my hair and started kissing my neck.

I'd become used to this, it was a tactic of his to distract me only this time he left his mark. After a few minutes he let me go and I found my dress getting it on as I looked at my neck in the mirror seeing his imprint.

"What was that for?" Amira asked him "My mark, your mine Selena. Your a woman and a beautiful one at that so I have to leave my mark so the moment someone tries to make a move on you they know you belong to someone." Killian said as he got dressed

"I'm not something to own." Amira said to him a bit mad

"It's not like that love." Killian said

We went our separate ways and for the next several weeks we kept our relationship secret. Did he still flirt with tavern women? Yes, Yes he did knowing how jealous it made me but he said since we were keeping it secret it was better for appearances. I think he just did it so he could make up to me on the ship later.

I left the tavern once and oh I forgot to mention we were back in the enchanted forest. So I had to go see my sister and he knew that so he covered for me. Running through to our secret spot to meet her we embraced each other the moment we met.

"Ami, it's been so long. Look at you." Snow said as she looked at me "you're happy"

"I am happy, I love him. I made something of myself Snow. Your the future Queen but I'm better off as a pirate." Amira said

"As long as you're happy but I don't approve of pirates." Snow said

Part of her words hurt me, how could she not approve of pirates knowing I was a pirate? Needless to say our reunion was short as I had to return and I went off to join back with the crew. My face may of said more than I wanted to as I walked on the ship but I didn't say anything just went below deck to my cabin. I heard footsteps behind me and before I could get to my cabin I was turned around with a kiss on my lips. I knew it was Killian so I took the opportunity to relish is something other then the slight pain my sister had gave me.

"Love what's wrong? You seem upset." Killian asked me

"My reunion with my sister wasn't what I thought it'd be." Amira said as I looked in his eyes "She doesn't approve of what i've become."

The feeling of cold metal on my cheek felt nice this time "Not everyone accepts pirates love. You've come to understand that with everything we've been through over the last year."

"I know but I have to show up at least for my sister's wedding. I know if things were the other way around she'd do it for me." Amira said

We traveled for some time and needless to say we ran into mermaid problems. There was one singing and well all the men including Killian seemed entice by it so I ran up to the helm. Smee wouldn't move or anything so I had to resort to the last tactic which was punching him as hard as I could. I steered the ship out of danger when the singing stop everyone returned to normal and I walked away from the helm as Smee took over going below deck. My hand hurt from the contact of hitting someone so hard.

'Remind me never to do that again.' Amira thought

Killian came rushing down after me though and he carefully observed my hand. A flinched at the pain but it wasn't like I could really help it. I'd just taken one for the team and saved our lives, still to make sure none of the crew asked questions he had me go to his quarters. Once in there he bandaged my hand to brace the bones that were throbbing.

"It's not that bad." Amira said

"Love, you punched a man in the face. That's not just something anyone could do it means my lessons with you came in handy." Killian said

I wanted to come back with something but my hand hurt so bad it wasn't funny. He let me rest and for the time being just let me rest in his cabin. He stayed there with me while I slept keeping my hand close to my body. I never wondered what he was thinking maybe it was about me since I started off a novice in pirating and became quite good at it in time.

Truth be told there wasn't much more to say about our future voyages but needless to say I'm skipping forward in my story to my sister's wedding. I stayed in the back with Killian watching from a distance seeing my beautiful sister Snow in her dress with the flowers in her hair. I smiled looking at her with my hands together seeing her happy on this special day but like everything the doors came open and revealed Regina.

'She had to just show up on this day!' Amira thought

Regina walked in going over to Snow and her husband with a smile. I had to watch in case i needed to step in, my hand on my sword ready to attack if she tried anything. I wasn't back down this time and Killian may of noticed this about me.

"Well look here, all the Kingdom to see your Happy day." Regina said as she used her magic and I gasped feeling her bring me forward like I was nothing "You even have your sister here." She released me letting me fall to the ground.

"I give you all this happy day, cause when I'm threw you'll all lose everything. My curse is coming and the only happy ending will be mine." Regina said

I pulled my sword out and had it by her neck, she only laughed looking at me seeing I was serious but she didn't take me serious. She saw me for what I was, who I used to be not who I'd become.

"Amira, you have some guts to hold a sword to me. I'll personally make sure your there when my curse sets in." Regina said then she poofed away.

My next days after that on the ship were as followed and easy to explain. Long voyage and many nights in the Captain's quarters if you get my drift. We didn't take Regina's threat lightly so any time we could have time together we took it because things were bad enough already.

Truth within days before things were to go down, news of my niece soon arriving was known and I'd felt sick but kept it hidden. When we made a stop for land I went to find someone who could help me figure out my problem. I ran into a seer that was passing my way and I didn't realize till she said something.

"Your worried Princess, but your not ill." The seer said and I stopped looking at her and she smiled at me. "What your problem is, you have a babe coming."

That about made my heart stop hearing that, but since knowing the truth I just met up with the crew. I wouldn't drink when we sat in the tavern not now knowing I was with child and with my lovers child of all things. I contemplated telling him but every time I did I came up with the bad thought of being sent away for it.

I stayed with the crew for awhile, till the day regina kidnapped me from the crew. She kept her word locking me in her tower till she could find a way to enact her curse. I was in there for days met a girl named Belle. We talked and one day Killian broke in the castle breaking into my cell and I hugged him.

"I'm getting you out of here love." Killian said

"I'm sorry, I should of told you the truth." Amira said

Before I could tell him Regina used her magic so he was out of the cell and my cell door was closed again as I ran to it holding my hand to him and he took mine the bars keeping us apart as I cried.

"I know who you are Captain, I'll make you a deal. Amira in exchange you do something for me." Regina said

"Deal" He said

In truth, when they left I still cried cause I never had the courage to tell him the truth. When the day came and the curse took us I never saw him again. I didn't know if he was alive still or if Regina had killed him.

[jungkookiebus]

Dungeons and Dick | jjk

Genre: nonidol!au, boyfriend!jjk, smut, fluff, crack? Pairing: jungkook x reader Word Count: 3.9k Warnings: dirty talk, face fucking, semi-exhibitionism, pussy slapping, ass slapping, rough sex, unprotected sex Summary: Your DnD group meets weekly and this time your DM, who also happens to be your boyfriend, plans on killing one of your party members until you thwart his plan leaving him pissed off and embarrassed. But Jungkook is not so secret about how much it turns him on when all the others have left.  Author’s Note: look, I like DnD and I wanted to write about Jungkook’s nerdy ass so sue me. ;) also this might be a hot mess. 

You had never seen anything more awful in your entire life, not even in your nightmares. The creature that loomed before you was larger than anything you had encountered before. Your party stood next to you, weapons ready, as you all prepared to face the creature head on. Standing in the underwater cave you had just swam to, almost losing Mando in the process, you were all hoping for a short rest when the creature appeared out of the shadows. Its brown outer shell was covered in algae, seaweed, and barnacles. Its eyes glowed red in the semi darkness and it roared as the tentacles on its chin lashed out at you. You quickly dodged out of the way of one of its swiping pincers and landed right on your feet. Next to you, Tan, pulled out his crossbow and docked it. You watched as he stepped back on his left foot, squinted to line up his shot, and fired. The arrow went neatly into one of the creature’s eyes and its roars echoed in the cave. Just as fast, Tan dropped the crossbow and shifted all his weight to his right foot as he yelled out, energy almost like lightning crackled from his fingers as three beams shot towards the creature. Its screams bounced off the walls and the noise was almost too much as you flinched, covering your ears. Your weapon clattered to the stone floor as you dropped to your knees.

“Lyran!” you heard yelled from across the cavern. Your cleric, Tezu, was maybe fifty feet away from you, halberd in hand as he watched you helplessly.

The creature lunged towards you, pincer open and headed straight where you were kneeling. A clash of metal against the floor, and the sharp light of sparks came into your vision as Tezu dashed across the cavern, halberd hitting the hard stone. Moments before the pincer closed around you, he slid in front of you, on his knees, halberd horizontal to the ground as he thrust it outwards, piercing into the hard shell of the creature. It roared in anger and pain as he jerked the halberd back towards him, pulling it from its grip.

Looking to the side you saw Mando calmly walk closer to the creature, arms outstretched, and you yelled at him to come back, but he didn’t seem to be listening. Saliva dripped from its mouth as it stalked closer to him, knowing it had its prey where it wanted it. But then, as if in moment of revelation, the creature stopped short. It lowered its pincers, tentacles falling limp as it stared dumbly at Mando. Mando’s eyes sparkled as he smiled. Lowering his arms, he looked at the creature for a bit longer before he said, “Go home.”

The creature didn’t even seem to ponder the demand as it slipped into the waters you swam out of and back into the depths. Next to you, Tezu sat back on the ground, winded and tired.

“Good one, Mando,” Tan said while picking his crossbow back up off the ground.

Mando was all smiles as he turned around, jutting his arm up into the air.

“Are you kidding me?!” Jungkook yelled.

“Hey, Dominate Monster is a good spell, man. I knew it’d come in handy when I leveled up.”

Jimin was grinning from ear to ear across the table as Jungkook glared at him from over the DM screen. Jimin had railroaded his efforts into making your party struggle to get to the ancient item.

You sat with your eyes closed listening to the sounds around you. Next to you, Taehyung sat clicking a pen, across the table Hoseok was sifting through some papers, and to your right at the head of the table, Jungkook sat tapping his foot as he shuffled his notes, figuring out what to do next. You heard the telltale sound of plastic against hardwood as someone dropped the contents of their dice bag.

“Shit,” you heard Hoseok mutter under his breath.

The smell of jalapenos from the nachos you just devoured reached your nose as you scratched your face. Beside you, Taehyung started to click the pen faster as he got more antsy. Blindly, you reached out and placed your hand over his. You felt him relax and drop the pen before sitting back in his chair.

“Well,” Jungkook huffed, “what do you guys do next?”

“What else is in this cavern?” Taehyung asked from beside you.

“There’s two doors. One has the carving of a fist on it with two swords behind it and a dragon encircling it.”

You heard Hoseok furiously taking notes and grinned to yourself. You never tried to really remember anything from this campaign. You were chaotic alignment after all.

“The other door has a raven carved onto it and it’s perched on a skull that seems to be balanced on a stack of books.”

“Can I do an arcana check to see if there’s any spells on the door?” Hoseok asked as he grabbed his character sheet.

“Sure,” Jungkook agreed.

Hoseok picked through his dice before grabbing the one he needed, rolling it in his hand, and let it fall to the table.

“That’s a 15 with a plus 2, so 17 arcana check, do I sense anything?”

“Soooo, the door with the fist seems like it has no magic on it, but the raven door is just oozing with magic. Like, it feels like maybe the spell on this door was just recently…I don’t know…renewed or something.”

“Hey guys!” Hoseok perked up as if you hadn’t heard anything Jungkook just said, “This raven door is just riddled with magic.”

“Alright, let’s open it. I walk up and attempt to open the door,” you said as you readied a dice in your hand.

“Wait!” Jimin yelled. “I attempt to stop her before she reaches it.”

“Too late,” Jungkook said, “give me a Constitution saving throw.”

You dropped the dice from your hand and looked at the number, already having memorized your character sheet.

“23.”

“Your arm kinda feels funny for a second, but nothing happens but the door doesn’t open.”

“Okay, warlock man, can you help us out?” you said, turning towards Taehyung.

Taehyung thought for a moment as he tapped his pursed lips, brows furrowed in concentration as he blankly stared at the table.

“What if…,” he started, “neither one of these doors are real?”

“Didn’t the tome say something about three paths?” Hoseok asked, perking up.

“Do you still have True Seeing?” you asked, leaning over and peering down at his sheet. “You do! Use it on me!”

“Okay, I wanna cast True Seeing on _____ and see if she sees anything.”

“What do I see?” you asked turning to Jungkook.

“You do see a third door to the right of the raven door. That door has something that looks like a crown made of flames in front of a castle.”

“A castle we know?”

“No.”

“Can I try to open it?” you asked.

“You can do whatever you want, babe.”

“No babe at the table, Jungkook, you’re the DM and I’m Lyran, your chaotic dwarf bard.”

He rolled his eyes and looked down at his notes.

“I’m gonna open it.”

“As soon as you open the door, there’s a ripple of dark magic and an Efreeti comes out of the door annnddddd I’m going to need all of you to roll for initiative.”

There was a collective groan as everyone gathered themselves for yet another encounter.

As the fight wore on you could tell that Jungkook was trying to kill a party member. The Efreeti was getting every save throw and everyone had taken fire damage at one point. You waited nervously, trying to keep your hit points up enough to pull out the spell Jungkook didn’t know you had. Last time, the party had leveled up and you spent that night restructuring your character.

When it got to your turn, Jungkook turned to look at you with such a cheeky grin that you were almost sad to be the one that would wipe it off. The pure satisfaction you would feel when you killed his elemental would be sweet. You had been adding up the damage everyone was dealing and if your calculations and guess were correct, the creature was probably under 100 hit points.

“Okay,” you breathed as if you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted Jungkook to believe he had won this round. “How far away is he from me?”

“About 70 feet.”

“Perfect. I’m going to move 10 feet and cast Power Word Kill and the word of power I use is…boji*.”

Hoseok’s peals of laughter made Taehyung jump in his seat as he too devolved into a fit of giggles. Jimin slid off his chair as he pointed at Jungkook who blanched.

“If I’m guessing correctly, your Efreeti is under 100 hit points, yes?”

All Jungkook could do was stare, open mouthed, and totally betrayed.

“Your creature’s dead.”

Hoseok screamed with laughter again as he clung to Jungkook’s arm. His attempt to placate a shocked Jungkook wasn’t working through his tears so he gave up and collapsed to the floor. Taehyung pulled you into a side hug so hard you had to push him away.

“We’re done for the night,” Jungkook said while standing and shuffling his papers into a stack before laying the screen down over them.

“Oh, come on!” Hoseok said from the floor.

“You were trying to kill us!” Jimin cried.

“I don’t think he was expecting us all to make it out alive,” Taehyung muttered as you watched Hoseok pull Jimin up from the floor.

“Don’t be mad!” Taehyung half pleaded from his seat. He could not care less how Jungkook felt about you killing his creature. He was already stuffing his keys into his pocket as he dropped his Player’s Handbook and dice bag into his backpack. “I’ve got class in the morning, so I’ll see you guys next week. Jungkook just shoot me a text with the XP I got, or I’ll kill you.” He bent over, placing a kiss to your cheek before waving to everyone else and heading out.

Hoseok and Jimin followed behind soon after. They both lived together a couple of blocks down from your building.

Jungkook was still moping around your apartment as you cleaned the crumbs and extra paper off the table.

“Are you really that mad?” you asked after he hadn’t said a word for quite a few minutes.

“You’re always just railroading me.”

“That’s the point.”

“But every time?!”

“You’re being very childish over a game, JK.”

He turned to you, turning his heated gaze on you as he stalked across the room. He came towards you swiftly with no signs of stopping and you subconsciously backed up until you heard the strange, hollow thunk of your back hitting the picture window. He stood, towering over you as you looked up at him. He looked heated and almost ready to argue until you saw his pupils blow. Reaching behind you, he pulled you by the ass towards him before lifting you up easily, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he practically slammed you into the glass again; the window shaking just a little and causing your muscles to tense even though you knew it’d take greater pressure to break. His lips were on yours swiftly as he used his body weight to keep you trapped against the window as his hands wandered up your waist underneath your shirt. He pressed himself into you as your legs tightened around his waist, fingers tangled in the hair at his nape as he kissed you harder. He reached behind him, grabbed your wrists, and pinned them to the window above you as he continued to kiss you and drag your bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re so hot when you know what you’re doing,” he whispered as he began to pepper kisses down your throat.

“What? At DnD?” you moaned as your head bumped against the window.

“Yea, even if you do fuck with me.”

You grinned as his teeth grazed the skin of your collarbone, both hands still firmly held above your head.

“Baby, I created that character to fuck with you.”

He practically growled as he ground himself against you. His cock was already rock hard under the rough denim fabric of his jeans. Whimpers escaped your lips as he harshly pushed against the thin fabric of your leggings. His teeth bit into soft skin of your shoulder and his grip on your wrists was bruising as he circled his hips, creating friction against your clit. His breathing was thick and heavy as he tortured himself further. Still keeping you aloft with sheer core strength alone, his other hand was up under your sweater. You gasped as his cold fingertips danced along the underside of your breast; nipples immediately hardening before he even touched them.  He cupped and squeezed your breast desperately under the softness of your sweater, causing varying heightened sensations inside of you.

“Just wait until I put you in your place, baby.”

He ground himself even harder against you, knowing you were soaking every bit of fabric between you, desperate for more and willing to do whatever it took. Your hot skin squeaked along the window as your sweater rose with Jungkook’s hand. Without warning, he shifted his weight backwards and your legs slipped down to the floor, thankfully catching yourself before you landed on your ass. His grip on your hands never loosened, however.

He dipped down, face so close that your noses were almost touching as he looked you in the eyes. His flitted back and forth between yours as he seemed to be searching for something. He ran his pointer finger over your lips and your body involuntarily flushed with goosebumps. Bending the tip of his finger, he pulled your lip downward before letting it pop back.

“Can I fuck this pretty mouth of yours?”

Your mouth salivated instantly. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

He let go of your hands and stood back from you while he started to undo the button on his pants.

You rubbed your sore wrists as you watched him.

“Right here?” you asked quizzically. You turned to look out of the window, very much on display for the rest of the world to see.

“Right here, baby,” he said while stepping out of his jeans. His cock was hard and outlined in his black boxer briefs, but it was when he turned to the side that you saw how hard he was, and you didn’t think twice as you dropped to your knees.

He raised an eyebrow as he turned back to you, a little surprised at your sudden submission. Reaching upwards, you hooked your hands in the band and pulled them down past his thighs. His cock bounced in front of you, red and leaking already. You licked your lips expectantly as you positioned yourself better on your knees, back still to the window. Jungkook’s gaze never wavered from you, nonplussed as he was to be bare in front of the window. Knowing he’d want control you placed both hands on his thighs as you let your mouth drop open, tongue waiting for its prize. He smiled that lopsided smile you always found endearing, but now it took on another personality as he grabbed both sides of your head, guiding your mouth to his cock. Slowly, it laid heavy on your tongue as he slid it in. He moaned as soon as you wrapped your lips around him and relaxed your throat. He hissed as he hit the back of it, causing you to tighten slightly, and waiting a beat before pulling out slowly. His fingers tightened in your hair as he gently thrust into your mouth again, building you up to where he wanted you. You looked upwards as his eyes met yours; his were black as night as his pupils blew even wider while his cock slid easily in and out of your mouth. Minutely, you dug your fingertips into his thighs a little more, signaling that he was okay to do whatever he wanted. Taking a deep breath through your nose you prepared for what was going to come next. He pulled out until the head was about to pop from your lips, eyes never leaving yours before he slammed back into your throat harshly causing you to choke around him.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he held himself there, head thrown back, and his hands tight in your hair.

His thigh muscles tensed under your hands as he thrust with more purpose. His thumbs slipped down your cheeks to the corners of your mouth. Jungkook loved using you this way and the evidence of it across his thumbs as drool slipped from the corners of your mouth, turned him on even more as he swiped the sticky wetness across the apples of your cheeks. Tears slipped from your eyes the more he restricted your breathing and soon your cheeks were soaked. His fingers slid back into your hair, wetting some of it as it stuck to your skin. He pulled your head onto him as he thrust forward. You were soon unable to hold back the choking noises as he fucked your mouth harder and harder, drool slipping down past your chin, sliding down your neck, and wetting the neck of your sweater.

With a gasp from him and an inhale of breath from you, he pulled completely from your mouth and stumbled backwards a few steps, chest heaving with the effort. He grabbed you by the wrist, pulled you up from the floor, and had your body flush with his as he reached around, fingers digging into the seam of your leggings, and pulled. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room as he ripped the ass of your leggings, exposing you to the cold air and window behind you, revealing your lack of panties. You barely had time to catch your breath before he had you bent over the arm of the couch, face buried into the cushions and throw pillows. His hand came down hard on one of your ass cheeks and the sting caused you to cry out as he rubbed a soothing hand over the spot. Not a second later, he landed a slap on the other, letting it sting for a few before he was soothing you once more. Your skin flushed with each connection, the sting sending chills of pleasures to the rest of your body. You shuddered helplessly on the couch as Jungkook landed slap after slap on your ass until you were sure they were just as red as his cock.

“You’re gonna ruin the couch,” he said as he dipped his hand between your legs. You had been absolutely dripping from the beginning and now you could feel it as fresh waves of arousal washed over you.

“Please,” you murmured; cheek pressed against the cushion. You wiggled your ass in an attempt to entice him, but it just landed you another slap that burned deliciously as your skin swelled.

He grabbed handful of your ass cheeks, spreading them to look at your dripping pussy.

“So pretty, baby.”

He rubbed his cock in between them, slowly and tortuously now.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

You whined as your fingers bit into the soft fabric, feeling the lines of thread as your fingernails caught in them.

He pushed in just as slowly as he did with your mouth and you couldn’t help the guttural moan that left your throat as he filled you up completely. You felt his hips stutter ever so slightly as your warmth enveloped him. His fingers bit into your waist as his other hand balled your sweater into his fist, creating leverage as he began to fuck you harder and harder. Your hips dug into the arm of the couch painfully as his snapped into you. Your sweater pulled tighter and tighter against your upper body the more he pulled, using every inch of you to fuck himself.

It seemed a moment too soon, when minutes later he pulled out and landed a slap directly against your pussy.

“Shit,” you gasped as you lifted your head, hands grappling with the fabric beneath you as you tried to find purchase and ground yourself to the here and now.

Jungkook had your head spinning anew as he slapped you even harder this time.

“Switch,” he said simply as he pulled you up from the couch.

Your entire body protested as you stiffly stood from the position you had been bent into for so long, but he didn’t care as he sat on the couch, legs spread, and waiting. He braced his hands on your waist as you slung your leg over his and positioned yourself over his cock. He pulled you down, hard, onto him and you cried out as you braced yourself on his shoulders.

“Ride me,” he said through gritted teeth. He was practically shaking as he held onto your waist still.

You rolled your hips the way you knew he liked it and you watched as his eyes rolled back and his head hit the back of the couch, hair fluffing out to the sides as it softly framed his head. Holding onto him tighter, you used him as you lifted yourself now and again, sitting back down hard, before grinding your hips in a way that had you rubbing your clit against his pelvis. Soon, head lifted and through hooded eyes he watched as your body undulated above him, torso still wrapped in soft pink cashmere, hair spilling past your shoulders, and eyes shut in bliss. He pushed your sweater up and over your breasts as he wrapped one arm around your back, bringing you closer, and pulled your nipple into his mouth. He hummed against your skin and you felt yourself gush around his cock as he bit and sucked softly. You felt more than saw him plant his feet firmly on the floor as he took over thrusting into you faster than you were riding him. The force of his thrusts had you bouncing down hard on his cock and you felt the familiar pressure build as your vision clouded with pure pleasure. Heat built inside of you until it felt like a consuming fire.

“That’s it, baby. Come all over me with that pretty pussy. You’re so beautiful, baby,” he muttered breathlessly as your whines became more pitched.

Your body tensed as your breath caught in your throat, coming hard, hands gripping his shoulders, as your mouth fell open, but no sound escaped. Exhaling and then breathing in just as fast, a small scream escaped your lips as he continued fucking you through the orgasm and sending you into yet another intense one before you had time to breathe.

He pulled you up off his cock just enough to reach around and grip himself firmly in his fist, jacking himself off fast and hard as the head of his cock still nudged closely to your entrance. You wrapped your arms around his neck, knees planted firmly into the couch as you brought your lips to his and captured them in a kiss. His thighs began to shake beneath you as you rotated your hips over the head of his cock, his hand working over himself furiously until you felt him come. Hot strings of cum landed against your pussy and dripped down back over himself as he slowed his hand, body jerking every once in a while, with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Collapsing against him, you were both breathing hard as you came down from your highs.

“Remind me,” you said breathing heavily, “to kill your characters more often.”

*boji or 보지 is the Korean word for cunt, muff, or pussy.

[lunatens]

into the woods

-

requested by anon <3 thank you so so much for your patience!!!!

prompt: "great job genius, you got us lost again"

word count: 0.6k

genre: fluff

pairing: kim seungmin x gn reader

“great job genius, you got us lost again. i thought you said you ‘knew these trails like the back of your hand,’” seungmin says as you pass by the same wonky-looking tree for the...third time? maybe fourth? to be honest, you’ve lost count at this point. you drop yourself onto a rock nearby with a heavy sigh.

“sorry, seungmin, i really thought i remembered the way back!!” you pout.

“what am i going to do with you and your hopeless sense of direction,” seungmin comments, sighing as he rummages through his backpack.

you kick your feet around in the dirt, waiting for seungmin to find whatever it is that he’s looking for. after a long winter, the weather was finally nice enough this weekend for you and your boyfriend to go on a walk in the woods together. the air’s still a little chilly, and you giggle at how cute seungmin’s rosy cheeks and red nose are.

the beginning of your hike was wonderful; taking pictures of each other, walking down the muddy trail hand in hand, enjoying the fresh air and warm spring sun. unfortunately, despite having been to these trails before, you can’t seem to remember the way back to the trailhead. you blame it on getting lost in conversation, although you both know you can’t navigate to save your life, and it’s seungmin’s first time here so he’s not much help either. you can only hope you’ll run into someone else out enjoying the fresh air, or maybe you’ll miraculously stumble your way back.

as seungmin continues to look through his bag for god knows what, you decide to take a quick look at the pictures you’ve taken so far. as you scroll through your phone, you come across a candid of seungmin tripping on a tree root, and you can’t help but giggle at the photo.

“hey seungmin, look at this,” you call your boyfriend over. you shuffle to the side to make room for him to join you on the rock.

“you got that on camera??” he asks in surprise, and you nod as you laugh, zooming into the picture to see his goofy facial expression.

“i’m gonna have to send this to the groupchat,” you say, and seungmin’s eyes widen in horror.

“no!! they’ll make me into a meme and i’ll never live it down,” seungmin whines.

“give me a reason not to send it and i’ll consider it,” you propose.

“...because you love me?” seungmin suggests, leaning into you with a smile.

“i can’t argue with that,” you reply. “i’m really sorry i got us lost, minnie,” you say, feeling a little badly. the sun’s starting to dip below the treeline, and you know you should try and get back sooner rather than later.

“i mean, i got to spend more time with you, so i think it worked out in the end. plus i found this, so we should be able to get back no problem,” seungmin says as he pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. you examine it, confused at first but then recognizing it as a map of the trail system.

“i completely forgot, i printed this out the other day when you mentioned you wanted to come here; who knew it’d actually come in handy!” he jokes. “let’s get going, shall we?” seungmin gets up from the rock and sticks his hands out to help you up. he keeps one of your hands in his as you walk down the trail, his warm fingers laced in yours making your heart flutter.

“i love you, seungmin,” you say with a content sigh, leaning into him.

“i love you too, even if you can’t tell left from right and up from down,” he jokes, and you think to yourself maybe it’s good to get a little lost once in a while.

[infinites-chaser]

all the lights that lead us there (are blinding)

| mlqc | shaw |

vague spoilers for ch.20+ content

he can't stay still. not really. his mind's always crackling with something some staticky noise that won't ever go— he tries to ignore it, lose himself in his music, his graffiti, his boarding, the play of electricity across his fingers late at night.

It starts like this: he's on the 330 bus at a hellishly early hour, listening to oasis's wonderwall (though he'll never admit it), the volume on his mp3 player turned up as loud as it can possibly go. just him, liam gallagher crooning in his ears, skateboard under his arm, the bass and drums thrumming through his veins like thunder.

correction: it's just him, the quaking wheels of the bus, and the girl who just got on— she's petite, delicate-looking, the kind of person he guesses is into pastels and flowers and gives people like him judgemental stares when they don't think he's looking. but when he stares at her, she stares back and for a second, it almost looks like the world could begin or end in her wide brown eyes. and maybe he wants it to.

(somehow, she seems familiar.)

he looks away first. static crackles around maybe you're gonna be the one who saves me.

and it's stupid but— 

he's on the same bus every day. maybe he looks for her whenever he gets on. maybe he never sees her.

he cycles through the rest of what's the story morning glory. stops listening to oasis. vows to go back to something his bandmates wouldn't laugh at him for.

he's waiting for the bus again, same route, same time, same driver, blasting green day as loud as it'll go.

he closes his eyes. leans his head back against the sun-flecked window, cradles his skateboard close.

the bus rattles, coughs exhaust, then jerks to a stop. the doors woosh open, woosh shut.

footsteps tap light on the linoleum floor, come to a stop close to him. he doesn't move. then static fizzles and pops loud in his ears, billie joe armstrong's voice stutters, jarring, discordant, wrong

he opens his eyes, and it's her.

her and her wide eyes.

the bus jolts, his skateboard slides, and he catches it before too much damage can be done, but she levels that stare at him, bleeding-hearted dreamer's stare, looking like she wants to save the world, bring all the sinners to justice, his skateboard too, and for a moment he forgets himself.

he makes it rain for her.

gives her the umbrella on a whim.

maybe he wants her to save the world,

maybe he wants her she to save him,

he thinks she could. he thinks she will.

she does.

only, she's as self-sacrificing as he's selfish: didn't think you were a saint, he thinks to himself, the world ending, starting anew around him, time loops bending, universes shifting, floating in and out of focus.

he closes his eyes against every universe's, every timeline's final scene: her body limp as a rag doll's, her blood spreading dark and heavy across the war torn warehouse floor.

didn't think you were a hero, either.

the world's wrong, after. he thinks (stupidly, irrationally, immature, caring in a way he hasn't been in a long, long time) that he should've done more�� all he's done is give her an umbrella. for rain and a storm he'd caused. it should've been him, at the end of it all.

though in a world where he's certain he's the only one who remembers her, he isn't really sure if she remembers him.

she doesn’t quite. then she does.

didn't think you looked a hero, he says, one late night over STF documents. her hands stiffen around her pen, her eyes narrow, glitter hard and bright to match it.

what do I look like, then, she asks, voice too-soft, too-calm

he falters. they have a balance, normally. he pushes. she pushes back. this time, he knows: he's gone too far.

what do I look like, she repeats, and her voice is still hard, her eyes still glittering, but there's an undercurrent to the ice, something thinning it, making her hardness fragile,

a savior, he says, near instinctively, and pretends not to notice when she nods, looks back down at her pen, and a tear slides down her cheek, splatters dark against the paper's white.

they come together, in fits and starts:

a warning text she ignores.

an insult. then another.

then, slowly, finally. an uneasy partnership.

it starts like this:

he takes her hand, pulls her onto the stage with him. it's hard to tell with the club's flickering lights. but he thinks she's blushing. it's cute. he's not afraid to admit it. he tries to tell her as much, but it's lost between the pounding of the speakers and the roar of the crowd. he settles for another devil-may-care smile.

what's your favorite song?

what?

I said, your favorite song!

you told me you'd tell me information. important information! that's why I came!

your favorite song, he repeats for a third time, even louder. maybe it'd be annoying if it were anyone else, but he'll say it again: she's cute with that pout. 

then, hastily, as her pout deepens:

it's important information! in exchange, you'll learn how good my band is.

she snorts.

play anything, she says, and he finds his fingers straying over the strings of his bass to pluck out the opening notes of wonderwall. he doesn't dare look up to watch her expression 'til the chorus hits.

she sings along.

she looks happy. wistful happy. and maybe her smile's a little sad, and there's a glisten in her eyes when they lift to meet his, but the smile's for him, the way her gaze lingers is proof, and he'll take any smile he can get from her, no matter how sad.

oasis, huh, he says after. I knew it. your taste in music sucks.

she scoffs and reaches a hand up to knuckle his sweaty forehead, hard. he lets her. he'll take this, too.

later, he stretches a hand out, catches a raindrop, surveys it, then shrugs, half to himself. sure, it's cool to roll up to people like yeah I can cause storms (not to mention it's a hell of a handy evol in a fight) but maybe he's being stupid because when he sees her sad smile he wishes his evol could clear the clouds and bring her sunshine back instead.

he does the next best thing: he teases her. and maybe it makes her huff and pout more times than not, but it makes him happier which is really half the battle. and he's sure that behind some of those scoffs are smiles.

between their trading of barbs (always dry, quippy, light, never meant to hurt) she just goes quiet. he doesn't like quiet. he's not used to it, and from the look in her eyes when she gets that way, he can tell she doesn't like it either.

you can talk about it, you know, he says one time, and she freezes, blank stare instantly shifting to a deer-in-headlights look, then annoyance. 

talk about what?

(atta girl, he thinks. sure it's defensive, but nothing scares him more than when she's just— nothing. lifeless. trapped in the past of a time worlds away.)

he scoffs. 

your terrible taste in music? i meant— before

(and they both know what 'before' is without him having to say it aloud, saying it feels like it'd make it all the more real, it'd be wrong)

her eyes are wide again.

before? she says, and he feels it stretching between them, that distance, the void, the reminder that she and him, they don't have a before, only a now, maybe an after.

we need to talk about your taste in music, too, though. urgently, he adds quickly, musters a grin. waits for the scoff, the eye roll to come.

it doesn't. instead, she reaches up to ruffle his hair with a cheeky smile before he can react.

you're a good boy, after all, aren't you, hm?

he scowls. he goes to grab her hand, wind her fingers through his, but realizes what he's about to do seconds before his fingers brush hers— he changes trajectory, attends to his mussed hair. (there's an art to the rebel hairdo. clearly she doesn't know it.)

and he would retort, but she's still looking at him, and her smile's gone all soft, not in a sad way, but in a way that just. does things to his heart,

so when she says 'thank you,' all he can say back is 'you're welcome,' and if he sounds more sincere than he's ever before, she doesn't notice, but he is.

he's not sure when their relationship—  reluctant alliance, friendship, more shifts, but it does, it evolves, it jumps— two steps forward, sparks fly, and they're back in the same place as before. same, he says, as if lightning could ever strike the same spot twice (he knows it does, he's not stupid, not like she is, eyes so bleeding heart wide they could swallow the world in her idealism, her kindness, they could and they will, after all, they've already swallowed him, remade him whole).

his days are filled with her, his nights, too. all the restless hours the clock strikes and neither of them wants to be alone,

bus rides at strange hours and electric eye contact across a crowded club after dark (he's tuning his guitar, about to take the stage, she's sitting alone at the end of the bar, two shots away from drunk) neon lights and drive-throughs before the dawn for hangover fast food, a tired employee's voice crackling through the speaker as he tries to give the order of the whole minivan— most nights it's him and the rest of his band, but once it's just him and her, sunrise after a sleepless night at the top of an empty parking garage, he gives her a can of spray paint and pretends to drive away while she runs after the banged-up van and tries to tag him, the studio and snacks and out-of-character honesty after waking up from nightmares

(it catches him by surprise, even as her brows curve up in surprise, too. the you can stay as long as you want, even though what he means is you can stay forever.)

she's sprawled clumsy across the faded cushions of his couch, halfway to dreamland, when he catches himself reaching to brush the hair from her eyes, thumb tracing tender over the edge of her cheek.

she murmurs something under his touch, soft, indistinct, and his heart's responding murmurs give his voice to a near-unconscious reply,

maybe, he whispers, you're gonna be the one who saves me,

he's about to leave her be when her finger catches round his pinky, holds his hand close,

save me? you already have, she says, 

shut up, he says back, you're drunk.

her eyes blink open, spark bright when they lift to meet his and he's falling, he's already gone, about to make another mistake to add to the many or the one right choice in his life

not drunk, she mutters, and her eyes shutter closed.

he swallows.

I know, he replies. her brow furrows.

he waits a second, a second longer, but her eyes stay closed this time. her breathing evens in the silence. the worry smooths out from between her eyes. she looks peaceful for once,

for once, he could almost imagine her happy. imagine them happy. the thought gives him courage again, to linger at her side. to lean in. to press his lips to the back of her hand.

makes it a promise, an oath sworn by someone who'd never once wanted to be loyal to anyone but himself,

someone who'd decided that there's someone he's willing to follow.

someone he wants to have. to hold.

(all the world's adventures and he wants to be hers.)

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.8 (BAON)

Summary:   It’s been a long night for everyone and dawn might be on the way, but it isn't over yet.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it here!

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If Jeff had had his way, they would have been out the door and on the way home before the second round of backup showed up, possibly with a pause for a drive thru run at taco bell for some ill-advised early morning burritos. Security would wave them out without so much as asking for a quick rundown of the evening. There would be no paperwork to fill out, no affidavits to sign, and after a lovely, long night of sleep as the little spoon in Antwan’s arms, they’d be treated to a gourmet breakfast in bed prepared by Gordon Ramsey himself.

Heck if he was gonna dream, might as well dream big.

As it turned out, he didn’t even get to step one. After the bad guys were in various stages of detained, Stretch wanted to sit down for a few minutes before heading downstairs and Jeff didn’t even consider throwing out a protest. He sat down next to his best friend who’d probably just saved his damned life again and waited, torn between trying not to think about everything that had happened or letting it loop around in his mind, so it’d be fresh when they gave their inevitable statements.

In the end, he went with a third, unexpected option: worrying about Stretch.

A minute of sitting here in this horrible building that was probably going to get a starring role in Jeff’s future nightmares, ‘to catch his breath’, he’d said, and yeah, that made some sense. After getting drugged, kidnapped, tied up, and then MacGyvering both an escape and a capture, anyone would need a breather.

Only, he and Stretch had been friends for a little while now and there was something…off. He couldn’t quite explain it. His tired smiles didn’t reach his eye lights, it didn’t make his eye sockets squinch in a skeleton Monster approximation of laugh lines. Maybe that could’ve been excused by him simply being exhausted and stressed; wasn’t like Jeff was his normal cheerful self either, plus Stretch used up a lot of magic teleporting them around, popping in and out to drop off traps while keeping a few steps ahead of the bad guys. Could’ve been, but he’d seen Stretch tired and besides, it was his understanding that if Stretch’s magic got low enough, he’d simply drop. That’s what happened way back when he’d saved all the kids when those Humans broke into New New Home. So why was it different now?

That wrong-smile was stiffly brittle, like it’d been borrowed from someone else and pasted onto Stretch’s face and Jeff didn’t like it, not one bit.

But now wasn’t exactly time for an interrogation, at least not from him. He was pretty damn sure they’d get one of those as a free bonus the minute they walked downstairs, whether they wanted it or not. So he kept quiet and sat with his friend in one of the rooms where the booby trap didn’t get set off. The tile floor was dirty but there was nothing inside but dust and some broken furniture, so they sat on the tiles anyway, leaning against the far wall where they had a good view of the door.

Honestly, as strange as it was that Stretch wanted to linger in this shithole, more surprising to him was that security was letting them instead of hustling them out the door as fast as they could.

That had been quite a moment. They’d still been in the hallway with one guy gagging and the other pinned to the floor in a cage of glowing blue bones that Stretch summoned up from nowhere when Red showed up, not shortcutting in, but hauling ass from the stairwell and that’d been a sight in and of itself. As far as he knew, Red never went above a pace of a casual mosey but there was no drag in his feet this time as he tore his way around the landing. He walked towards them like he’d been taking lessons from Arnold Schwarzenegger, boots heels clacking loudly on the tile floor.

“let go, honey bun, i got ‘im,” Red said. Stretch didn’t look at him, those bones not so much as wavering and he spoke again, a little louder, sharp and short, “brother, let him go. let me take him out.”

Stretch jerked as if he’d been pinched. He looked at Red, orange-tinted eyelights swinging towards him, but almost immediately he flinched, turning away. As the cage of bones faded, a crowd of guys in Embassy Security uniforms swarmed up the stairs behind them, all moving as Red barked out orders. The bad guys were gone in a flash, hauled out in cringing silence, and only when they were mostly alone did Red speak again.

“you two okay?” Red asked them bluntly. “do we need to get the medics up here? talk to me, no bullshit right now, i ain’t in no mood to interpret.”

“we’re not hurt,” Stretch said. He’d wrapped his arms around himself, gripping his elbows, and his gaze was on the floor. Jeff nodded in agreement, only to blink as Stretch added, tightly, “i need a few minutes before i can go downstairs, red.”

Red’s sockets narrowed and he nodded slowly. “take all the time you need, honey bun.” His gaze shifted to Jeff and he nearly flinched himself from that piercing stare. It felt as if Red were looking through him, staring right into his little green soul. “what about you, handy andy? stayin’ or goin’? i figure your honey should be here in about fifteen, but you can wait in one of the cars downstairs if you wanna.”

Jeff never hesitated, “I’ll wait here.”

One corner of Red’s mouth rose in a brief smirk. “figured. okay, come on, in here.” He ducked into an empty room, sidestepping the little pile of trash that concealed what Stretch had called a ‘ketchup and mustard gas trap’ in honor of his twin bros from another ‘verse. All Jeff knew was he’d been ordered not to breathe while Stretch mixed some red powder and a yellow liquid together into an old soda can as a special surprise for the asshole du jour of the evening.

“stay here,” Red ordered. “i’ll tell the rabble to keep out.” He hesitated, his tongue flicking over his teeth and if it were anyone else, Jeff would say he was almost nervous. “my bro is on his way. telling ya right now, i ain’t gonna be able to keep him downstairs without collateral damage.”

“no, don’t stop him.” Stretch sank down to the floor in a noodly way that was impressive for a guy made entirely of bones, leaning against the wall. “it won’t hurt. send him up, i’ve already seen it all, a long time ago.”

Red’s expression twisted in a complex grimace. “sorry to hear that.”

Stretch made a sound that was almost amused. “don’t be. i still fell in love with him, didn’t i.” He let his skull fall back against the wall with a light thunk, closing his sockets. Red paused at the trap, dismantling it with expertise that shouldn’t have been a surprise. He paused, the rigged soda can in hand, when Stretch said, softly, “red? thanks.”

“not a problem, honey bun.” There was a certain unexpected gentleness in those words. “take a breather, yeah?”

Stretch nodded tiredly and that was it. Red left and they’d been sitting for close to fifteen minutes now without speaking. Take a breather, right, and Jeff didn’t pretend to be some kind of espionage genius, but he knew doublespeak when he heard it. There was some kind of understanding between Red and Stretch that they didn’t want to say aloud.

And honestly? Jeff didn’t care. Let them keep their secrets, he had an inkling of what his friends had been through in the past, his morbid curiosity wasn’t worth making them relive it. All he wanted was to make sure Stretch was okay now. He shifted a little closer and Stretch didn’t move, didn’t even seem like he’d noticed.

“Stretch,” he asked cautiously, hesitating. Stretch could be awfully prickly when it came to his health and surely Red wouldn’t have left if he’d thought Stretch was in any danger, but still. He had to ask. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“yep,” Stretch said immediately. “just need to catch my breath.” It should have been true, it probably was, but still. Something rang a little false there and Jeff wasn’t sure what.

He didn’t have time to think about it for much longer. This whole building echoed like an empty airplane hanger and he could hear someone coming up the stairs very fast. It was only seconds later that Blue came flying in through the door. As far as Jeff knew, he couldn’t teleport, but he sure didn’t seem like his feet ever touched the ground as he sailed over right into Stretch’s lap. Buried his rounded face into the thin t-shirt they’d been forced to wear, and his shoulders were shaking before Stretch could even get an arm around him.

“hey, shh, it’s okay.” A brother in the lap was finally enough to get Stretch moving. He pulled his brother in close, resting his cheekbone on top of his skull as he murmured a soft litany of comforting words. Whatever Blue was saying was muffled into Stretch’s ribcage. Not that it mattered, his brother seemed to understand, sibling-speak a power all its own, and held him tighter, still whispering that it was all right, he was fine, he really was.

Jeff was so focused on that first happy reunion that he didn’t notice someone new in the doorway. Until he glanced up and his eyes snagged on a face he’d wanted to see for hours and feared he never would again. Antwan stood there, more rumpled and haggard than Jeff had ever seen him, and he was the most wonderful thing Jeff had ever seen.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t move, he only stood there staring with dark, unreadable eyes.

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Jeff said. His first impulse of delight wavered, and he laughed nervously, wetting his lips, “Okay, not exactly home, but it’s still pretty damn good to see you.”

Antwan still didn’t say anything. He only stood there, staring, and Jeff’s grin was starting to falter when he abruptly walked into the room. Not so much as glancing around, his eyes entirely for Jeff as he all but fell to his knees and pulled Jeff into a tight hug. Blunt fingertips dug into Jeff’s back as if sink directly into him. His shoulders were shaking, his breath hitching, and he made a faint, shuddery sound, almost a broken sob.

“Oh, don’t,” Jeff said softly, close to tears of his own. He settled a hand on Antwan’s head, petting his short hair and painful as this was, he couldn’t remember any time he’d ever felt as loved as he did right now. Not his own family, not any lover he’d had before. There was only Antwan holding him so tightly his ribs ached, warm dampness starting to flow where his face was buried against Jeff’s neck.

More than any comfort for himself, he wanted to hold Antwan close and offer what he could to him. Under his tentative hands, Antwan felt chilly even though it wasn’t a cold night and Jeff spread his fingers wide as if he could warm him that way. Maybe he did, Antwan slowly stopped shivering as he petted and soothed. He leaned heavily against Jeff and they would have sprawled on the floor if the wall weren’t propping them up.

Jeff absently noticed Edge coming in, couldn’t spare a hand to wave at him, but he figured it didn’t matter. Edge only had eye lights for Stretch and that was just fine.

Long moments passed before Antwan finally lifted his head. His eyes were reddened, his lashes matted and damp. “You’re all right?” Antwan asked hoarsely. “They didn’t hurt you?”

All right was a little subjective right now, so Jeff went with as much truth as he could. “I’m not hurt, they barely pushed us around. Not a scratch or a bruise on me.”

That answer didn’t seem to satisfy. Antwan scowled and plucked at the crappy shirt Jeff was wearing, the one those assholes forced him to put on. He started to speak, broke off, ducked his head and tried again, but whatever words he was trying for didn’t seem to be coming.

It was so bizarre to see him this way. Antwan, who was never hesitant. He was always decisive, whether it was in a courtroom or what restaurant they were going to that night. It was one of the things Jeff loved most about Antwan; left to his own devices, he’d end up spending an hour trying to choose between Italian and Chinese takeout and still end flipping a coin.

Not Antwan. He came in and took control, knew what he wanted and how to make it happen, and he damn well did it. He was a little like Edge in that, the two of them were pretty damn formidable when they did couple’s nights.

Today his tight control seemed to have abandoned him. He’d given up on speaking and now his lips were pressed tightly together, his whole face scrunching up as if trying to keep something from exploding out.

That was worrisome and not only because he was afraid Antwan might be a little nauseous, who knew what shortcuts he’d been dragged on tonight. As much as he loved him, having his boyfriend puke in his lap would be the worst way to end this night and, cautiously, Jeff asked. “Are you okay?”

What finally burst out was about the last thing he’d ever expected, a blurt of words crammed together into not a question, but a demand. “Marry me!”

“Uh…” That wasn’t anywhere on the list of his expectations. In his arms, Antwan shifted restlessly, like he wanted to stand and pace, but didn’t want to let Jeff go.

“This was supposed to be romantic,” Antwan said and his voice sounded like every word pained him, the entire glut escaping him without so much as a breath or a pause. “I had a plan, I have a ring. I was going to take you to dinner at the most expensive place in town and propose by the fountains. We can still do that, I want to do that, but I can’t wait, I can’t.” He shifted his grip to Jeff’s shoulders, giving him a little shake like a punctuation, his face inches away. He was beautiful this close, his dark eyes all but glowing as if he’d picked up the trick from one of the local skeletons. “Edge tried to warn me, he told me time passes too fast, he told me to step up and I didn’t.”

“Yes.”

Antwan didn’t seem to hear, still talking in an endless rush, “When Red came and got me, I died inside, all I could think was that I’d waited too long and lost you because I was a coward, I was an asshole, and I need you—”

“Yes.”

He plowed on like a semi without brakes, rolling over everything in its path. “We don’t have to get married right away if you don’t want, but you should move into my place completely. No more stuff at Blue’s, we’ll get the rest of it tomorrow. No, wait, you should rest tomorrow, you’ve been through a traumatic experience, we can do it the day after. We can do it whenever I can stand to let you go, I can’t, I—"

The rest of the words were stifled under Jeff’s mouth, a firm kiss ending that outpour. His mouth froze, meeting that kiss hesitantly at first then with increasing fervency, and it was warm and wet and wonderful, perfect, so perfect, every word Jeff could manage to shake out of his mental thesaurus.

Antwan groaned into his mouth, shuddering when Jeff broke it and drew away, but he didn’t go far. He leaned back enough to look Antwan directly into those beautiful eyes as he said clearly, “Yes, I will marry you.”

“You will?” Antwan parroted dumbly, then again, louder, “You will. You will!”

He sounded, Jeff thought fondly, as if he were he were trying to convince Jeff as much as himself. Not exactly the way he’d dreamed of getting a proposal and, yeah, there was something to be said for romance, but sitting here on this dirty floor in his ugly-ass kidnapping outfit, he sure didn’t doubt Antwan’s sincerity. His chest ached with love for this wonderful, crazy man and it was only when he heard a heartfelt sigh behind him that he remembered they weren’t alone.

He turned to see the three skeletons in the room were watching with varying degrees of interest. It looked as if Edge pulled Stretch into his own lap and brought Blue along for the ride, making the skeleton stack three deep. It did not escape his notice that Edge holding onto Stretch like he was never going to let go. As fastidious as Edge could be, he only sat there on the dirty floor with him, holding Stretch like he was the most precious thing in the world which, yeah, okay, he was, to Edge.

And it sure as hell didn’t escape his notice Stretch and Blue’s eyes lights were morphed into bright little hearts, both of them watching as if their favorite daytime soap opera couple finally got together in the season finale.

Jeff only grinned, barely embarrassed. He couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather have as an audience.

That impulse lasted about as long as it took Stretch to open his mouth. “’bout time, antwan, i was starting to think you’d never cowboy up and ask.”

“Shut up,” Antwan said automatically. Some of his normal sass must be rebooting. “I heard how you proposed, it was more like a train wreck than a question. Red bitched for a week about how much cash you lost him.”

“gonna bitch some more this time,” Stretch said, cheerily unoffended. “i got a twenty coming my way.”

“I have fifty,” Blue piped up. He clapped his hands together. “This is so wonderful! We need to have a party, we need to make plans—”

“We need to do a great deal,” Edge interrupted, not unkindly. “To begin with, let’s go home, shall we?”

Stretch must’ve finally breathed enough. He nodded and said, “yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here—whoa!"

Edge barely paused to nudge Blue to his feet before he stood, Stretch in his arms as he strode briskly to the door, “babe, no, your leg!”

His voice dwindled before Jeff could hear the rest of his protest. Blue followed them out, not without a last fond backwards glance, and left them alone.

Jeff smiled at his boyfriend, no, his fiancé and he’d never expected to be able to say that, never dared dream, and now it was his, no take backises from the universe, not this time. Politely, he asked, “you wanna get the fuck out of here?”

“Yes,” Antwan said firmly and Jeff let out a squeak of his own as he was suddenly lifted into Antwan’s arms, held close as he was carried out the door. Unlike Stretch, Jeff wasn’t about to offer a single protest. He only slipped his arms around Antwan’s neck and held on.

He’d let Antwan carry him to hell and back if needs be, but for right now, all he wanted was for his love to take him home.

tbc