#I considered eyebrows but he started looking like Tom from Tom and Jerry and I almost died

[llovehymn]

a silly concept for a very serious god of death

[kayabred]

Mafia boss Johnny ! (Requested lmao finally someone requested 😌) fem reader by the way and also ...maybe i might turn this into a wattpad book ?? Warning : fast paced , sarcasm and a very funny inner voice cause I have odd humour

Oh fuck . When you told your friend that being sold to the mafia wouldn’t be too bad after reading a wattpad book , you were very very wrong .

Your breathing was shallow , it was all you could hear in the room that was so silent it was deafening . It seemed to spin , the beige walls that confined you .

Chained ; shackled . You were barely dressed and your hair was a mess . However , Skin red and splotchy , tear stains running down your cheeks and lips trembling as you held back sobs , you weren’t much better than your hair .

To be honest , you don’t quite remember what had happened. A night in the club , a drink from a stranger and then suddenly you couldn’t think straight . You couldn’t move right . Everything seemed weird . You weren’t in control of your body .

A man picked you up , the same one that had offered you the drink . He took you you into a car but that’s all you remember .You don’t quite know where you were now .

The beige room may have trapped you in it but even if you weren’t chained , you wouldn’t be brave enough to step out . You’d seen the guns they’d carried and hell no , you were not going to get shot.

There were some light footsteps and a muffled sigh outside before someone opened the door . Light brown hair and skin just a little darker than that .

“Hey missy—you look horrible—it’s time to clean you up . How’ve you been ?” He hummed , so nice it was sarcastic and grabbed a key from his waist .

You didn’t answer , biting down on your trembling lip to keep from more tears . He sighed after unlocking one of the chains and pulled away to look at you .

“Crying ? Jesus , you look like a corpse whose partner ran away at the wedding . Stop crying , sheesh,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance before unlocking the other chain . But you were handcuffed still .

The man smiled , as though used to meetings like that and extended his hands. You grabbed them , honestly not knowing what else to do .

“Haechan . Name’s Haechan,” he nodded to you before dragging you up and out by the chain connecting your cuffs . You followed , feet shuffling and stumbling over each other at his surprising pace .

The corridors weren’t very different from what you’d imagined . A dirtier version of the same beige the inside of the room had been , blood stains and splatter every now and then .

Men stood along the halls , armed and waved merrily at Haechan who waved back , grinning and making small talk with a few . You kept your head down , silently praying that it was all some kind of sick lucid dream of some sort .

Haechan punched the elevator buttons , calling for it and waited . Sticking a lollipop in his mouth , he turned to you .

“Want one ?” You shook your head frantically , in panic because of the sudden offer . Haechan shrugged as the elevator dinged . You entered , though your legs only started moving after Haechan clapped a hand against your back , hard .

“Okay , love-” he turned to you , hands in his pockets and eyes scanning every inch of you judgingly-“you were sold to the big boss . His name’s Johnny . You’re going to clean up first,”

He scratched his nose , seeming to think over everything he knew and filter out what he had to tell you . Realising he didn’t really have much more to say , he smiled at you again and then looked away .

“Sold ?” You breathed out , one of the few things you had said . It was more of a croak than a word , really . Haechan hummed , not hearing and cupped a finger to his ear , leaning your way.

“I-I was sold ?” You repeated , voice still hoarse . Haechan hummed again in assent , adjusting the way he stood and shrugged his leather jacket back into place .

“Yeah , hun, just said that . Anyway , off to cleaning and then to big boss and then...” Haechan shrugged again , not to keep his jacket on his shoulders this time—though it might have helped with the slipping , the leather wasn’t his size.

To the big boss...Holy shit I’m screwed . You bit back a whimper , focusing on your breathing to avoid a panic attack . This is not the goddamn time , you hissed at yourself , shaking your head lightly to ignore any thought that would bring about anxiety .

“You good ?” Haechan eyed you . Your head shot up , turning to him with panicked eyes and a heart pounding a little too quickly to be calm . You nodded , gulping down fear and turned to face the elevator doors just as they opened .

He grabbed one of your cuffed wrists , humming and adopted the quick pace he had just a while ago . You fought to keep up with him , stopping before a door just when you thought you’d gotten the hang of it .

“Mmkay , babe , this is it ,” he sighed and knocked on the door . There was some clanging and a few shouts before two men opened the door . One closely resembled a rabbit and the other was skinny with a cold face .

“Have fun with Tom and Jerry,” Haechan waved , shoving you towards them and then waving goodbye . He whistled as he went . Don’t go ! But Haechan was merciless when he left you . Dreading to face more people but knowing you had to , you faced the two new men . They prepared scissors , brushes and soap systematically, not turning to you just yet.

“Okay , hurry and strip so we can see what we have to work with,” The skinny one spoke , turning to you with a clenched jaw . Your hands flew to your chest protectively .

“Doesn’t look like much,” the rabbit faced man mumbled before waving the thought away,“Kim Dongyoung here , you can call me Doyoung. This is Taeyong.”

Taeyong waved , smiling softly before he gestured for you to remove your clothes .

“Come on , we don’t bite ,” he sighed , laughing Doyoung’s way at some inside joke and clapping for you to speed up . Truly not knowing what to do , you did as you were told .

And that was the beginning of three hours . Bickering , gossip and jokes spilled out of them as they worked to make you look as...presentable as they could .

“Done.” Taeyong pulled away with an eyelash curler . Your eyelids fluttered open . Wow. On a normal day , truly you would feel a surge of confidence in you but all you could think of was being sold .

Looking good wasn’t something you wanted right now . You just wanted hoodies and sweatpants and home .

“Ooh , hey you look good,” Doyoung nudged you with his elbow encouragingly . You managed a nervous chuckle . A pig for slaughter sounded more right in your opinion .

“Johnny’ll like her for sure,” the utmost certainty in Taeyong’s voice made your skin crawl . Johnny . So that was his name . You felt the temperature drop 100 degrees .

“Is-is there any way I can get him to not like me ?” You turned your head , smiling painfully with fearful eyes . Taeyong snorted , arms still crossed and pressed to his chest ,“do you want to die?”

You shook your head softly , biting your lip in fear and looking down in disappointment.

“Hey , it’s okay . I’ve known Johnny for a long time , he’s a good guy,” Taeyong ensured , nodding as he smiled . His hand came away from his chest , patting your back and rubbing soothing circles so you felt a little better . However , for someone so skinny , he was pretty strong and you ended up coughing with the force of it .

Standing up on wobbly legs , you held onto the back of the chair for support . Doyoung soothed his shirt—which was significantly crumpled by the end of the three hours—and held a hand to escort you . You couldn’t help but think that , for the mafia , they had manners .

Then you remembered how you’d just been kidnapped and the voice shut itself up in the back of your head .

“Hey princess , looking better now,” the door opened to Haechan . Doyoung sighed at the sight of the boy , giving her a small push towards him .

“Take her and try not to get her killed on accident , she’s actually nice,” Haechan’s eyebrows jumped at his comment . He stuck the same yellow lollipop he had in the elevator back into his mouth using his knuckles .

“Bye , chief,” he saluted to Doyoung and then whistled for you , nodding down the hall and gesturing to follow after him . Though your head screamed to just run the other way and try your luck ,your feet followed after Haechan .

The only sound in the halls were that of his heeled boots clicking against the ground—a sound which echoed off the walls and made it near deafening—and his humming of some pop song he must have had stuck in his head considering he only hummed the same few lines . Over and over and over again .

You both stopped finally before the tallest door you’d seen , a mere centimetre away from the wall.

“Tall door,” you murmured to yourself . Haechan sighed , deftly inserting a pretty gold key into the lock ,“tall guy.”

He turned to you , turning the lock so it clicked . Haechan smiled , eyes pressed shut so the gesture felt almost sarcastic before opening the door . His face fell into a cold expression.

“In you go.”

You gulped , seeing yourself into what looked more like a CEO’s office then a mafia boss’ . Haechan slammed the door shut behind you , the force of it shaking the door and making you jump .

Someone sat in a chair overlooking the city . He turned , smiling at you .

“Sit ?” It wasn’t a command but you took it as one . Mafia boss ? Hell yeah I’m gonna listen , I’m not dying today . He poured some beer into a glass , sliding it across .

“You drink ?” He hummed , pouring one for himself . You reached for it , mumbling a ,“Yeah if not I wouldn’t even be here.”

But he’d heard it , laughing just as the beer reached his lips . He wiped what had trickled away with his sleeve , pulling the glass away and smiling brightly at you . You blinked , face blank with shock .

Okay this mafia boss kinda cute though-Nope ! We will not turn into a wattpad y/n !

While you were in your thoughts , the man had been studying you with a small smile and sparkling eyes ,“I’m Johnny.”

You cleared your throat , opening your mouth and speaking in a small voice , “I’m —-.”

Johnny nodded , still smiling gently and sipped on his beer before turning back to you .

“Have they told you ? About how I bought you ?” He smirked flirtatiously. Bitch , get out or else you’re going to end up in some wattpad fic-

“Yes-”you cleared your throat , smiling a little too forced looking-“Yes they did but-I uh , I have a question .”

He chuckled , eyeing you before nodding and reaching for a cigarette. Dumb bitch your brain is going to be blown

“Well...you say sold but from what I remember ...I was-” how the fuck do I put this nicely-“taken ?”

Johnny raised an eyebrow , half amused and half confused .Dumbass you gon die for real .

“Well , yes , because I bought you,” he hummed . You bit your tongue . Nice , how about now we ask if we can have a share of the profits? You pursed your lips at your inner voice , nodding simply at Johnny’s words .

Sold . You’d been sold without even being up for sale .

[randombtsprincessa]

BADLANDS || 1

All Rights Reserved.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jung Hoseok x Reader (1st POV)

Summary: You are keen on the Golden Boy, Park Jimin but nowhere getting his attention. A late night decision to win him over leads you straight to Jung Hoseok - opposite of gold and rival to Jimin. On your quest to land the prince, you learn that not everything that is gold, glitters.

Warning: Some social drinking and maybe decisions that are kinda wack lol. 

A/N: Who knew Jimin would wiggle his way into this? Not me, nope, I certainly was the most surprised.

Everyone has crushes on someone at least once at a point in their lives. Sometimes, it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it is just an infatuation that passes in a week or month or so and sometimes it is squashed down till the person moves on.

And sometimes, there is a person who develops a crush on the most impossible person in their vicinity. Don’t misunderstand, a lot of the crushes can be formed on impossible people usually but me…I had hit the jackpot on being Impossible Crusher #1.

Like all crushing parties, I was staring; staring across a college ground which currently held the small fundraiser that would equip the fine arts department with some new musical instruments. I had enthusiastically and joyously written down my name for volunteering, eager to get my hands on a good composing system.

The fundraiser itself had been of a small musical competition, the money earned from the audience had proceeded towards the funding. In return for my contribution, I had been handed an invitation to attend the fundraiser party and now here I was, standing in one corner like a weirdo and staring like a creep.

I hoped the goods the money would buy were worth it, because the fine arts – especially music, in which I was a student – badly needed it. My friends had long since departed, sitting down at a picnic table while I continued to stare.

At one point I think I may have been poked, but everything else hopelessly faded away when he was in line of my sight.

The ‘he’ in question was Park Jimin, golden boy of Seoul Arts College, star of the fine arts department and an overall fantastic person. He was an all rounder that had taken our college by storm ever since he had stepped foot over in the institute.

I don’t remember the exact time that he had joined our fray but I did remember the moment when I had first started hoping that he would look at me and maybe see something more.

“Y/N, I want you to take these notes down to the dance department. These are our possible schedules and timings for practices and I want to know if they can fit their choreography practice in.” The head of your department; Shoji handed you a sheaf of paper that had scrawling all over it.

For the life of me, I did not understand how the dance captain was going to make heads or tails of it but I quietly obeyed, bundling the papers and taking the stairs down.

The dance department was spread completely onto one whole floor. All practice rooms were mirrored, glass walled and so bright you couldn’t miss a damn thing. It was used to show off the diligence and finesse of our dancers. Of course, very soon it would become cause to come and see Park Jimin in motion.

You knocked on the first dance room, the dance captain glancing up at you where he had been talking to two dancers. You had never had much time to talk to the heads of all the departments but it was mandatory to at least know them all by sight.

“Yes,” he called.

You held up the leaflets. “Shoji sent the timetables for the arts department. Can you take a look and let me know there are good?” I asked.

The captain nodded, holding out his hand. He didn’t take one step towards me. I rolled my eyes inwardly. For all the stamina in the world needed to be captain to the dance team of one of the finest institutes in the world, the captain sure was pretty lazy.

Nonetheless, I was the subordinate so I walked in, my own arms outstretched so the papers would reach him quicker. He gripped the bundle, rifling through them and passing a cursory gaze over it.

“They’re fine. I’m just going to add a few more time slots in so I can train up the new kid.” The captain nudged his chin towards the boy who was standing in front of him.

I looked at him just as he turned to give me a beam.

The force with which he hit me was unexpected and I nearly staggered back.

The boy was stunning – like honest to god, no lie, stunning.

Smooth blond hair mopped on top of his head, crescent eyes turned into a smile that was so endearing I was sure he could make anyone do anything for him just to be rewarded with that smile.

Safe to say, I was enchanted and I remained so – till this day.

“He is Park Jimin,” The captain introduced, paying no mind as he jotted down timings to the upheaval that was just caused to my social systems.

By the time I got home that evening, it was late, much later than I had anticipated. The fact that I had managed to find a roommate and a small apartment close to the university was a boon during times like these.

When I entered, sliding the key through the lock, the place was dark. My roommate was probably still at work or had gone out as well. I sighed, slipping out of the tight new shoes I had squeezed into. I made a note to loosen them a bit and placed them neatly on the shoe shelf, trudging in.

I flipped onto the couch, covering my eyes with my arms. I had to be up in about five hours to go back to classes and at this point, the age old debate whether my education was worth the sleep deprivation started again.

I groaned and precisely at that point, my roommate decided to stride in.

Kang Mina, on first sight was alarming. With a name that sounded deceptively sweet, she was the complete opposite of it.

I remembered the first time I’d seen her, the front door to our now shared apartment opening to see a girl my age with a shock of bubblegum hair, a thickly lined eye and chapped lips. She’d looked me up and down before letting me in and despite wondering if I should, I had obliged.

Mina had given me a brief run of the house and it all had seemed nice enough; Hot water, electricity, maintenance but easy access to campus and a safe neighborhood – even if it was small. It had struck a chord and with the way Mina talked, I didn’t think she was going to be too much of a problem.

We had been roommates for two college years and even though we weren’t the best of friends, at least she didn’t hate me.

“What’s wrong with you?” Those were the first words she spoke as she started shrugging off her heavy coat.

I removed my arms from my face, peering blearily at her.

Mina’s pink hair was long gone, now replaced with her natural black – almost too black – hair. She put it up in a bun, still watching me for an answer.

“Life,” I grumbled, turning on to my stomach.

Mina grunted; sounds of her quietly moving about before starting the TV echoing in the apartment. “How was the party?”

“As if you care; how was work? What time it is?” I rubbed my eyes.

“As if you care,” she shot right back. “It’s late, nearly one.” She looked at you. “Don’t you have class in the morning?”

“As do you, what’s your point?”

“I’m used to staying up all night. You’re not. That’s my point.” She didn’t look at me again, flicking through channels. It was silent for a bit, both of us watching the reruns of Tom and Jerry.

“Is this about that guy you like, Jimin?” She asked again.

I shrugged.

Mina gave me her raised eyebrows. “Look I don’t know much about crushes but from what I’ve gathered, moping about because of them isn’t considered healthy.” She said.

I groaned again.

“You’d be right. I stared at him all through the night and he never once even glanced in my direction. Aren’t people supposed to feel when they’re being stared at? He does not seem to have that thing going. No, he kept drinking and laughing about with his boys and then stupid Hyerin began to make eyes at him. All my friends left me, you know.”

I could feel waves of judgment rolling off of Mina now.

“So, you spent three hours at a party which you worked hard to contribute for, only to creepily watch a guy ignore you and got left alone by your own friends? Honey, you need a hobby…and may be new friends.” She firmly turned to face the TV.

“You’d leave me behind.” I pointed out.

“If you were embarrassing yourself; I wouldn’t just drop you because you were staring at some guy.” She muttered and I had to agree. No matter what Mina’s idiosyncrasies were, she was a very good friend.

“Right, I’m going to go crash now. Hopefully, I’ll wake up to go to my classes; I can’t afford to miss them.” You got to your feet, stretching as you made your way towards the hallway when she spoke again, stopping you in your steps.

“You need to get a boyfriend.”

I whirled around, looking at her in horror. “What?”

Mina didn’t look at you. “Get a boyfriend; it’s the easiest thing in the world and it is also a surefire way of making Park turn his head to you. Flaunt your man in front of him to show him what he’s missing.”

I gaped at her, finally making her turn to me. “What?” She asked, defiantly.

“Who are you, and what have you done to Kang Mina?” I teased. “How many of those rom-com movies have you watched?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not a lot, but that’s always the gist isn’t it? The girl wants a guy, guy doesn’t want her, she gets a new guy and guy miraculously wants her and all ends well. Maybe, not for the second guy,” she shrugged.

“Mina,” I returned to sit next to her. “I can’t just get a boyfriend. What will I do with him? I’m not…I can’t flaunt anything that I have no experience with.” I turned my head down.

There was a pause. “I can’t believe I’m saying this…and I’m very sure I’m going to get murdered for this but…I might have the guy for you.” She said slowly.

I raised my eyebrows. “You do?”

Mina nodded. “Yeah, he’s my friend. He’s in the dance department with Jimin as well. He’s also an underground rapper. It’s a real mix, I can tell you. But the dude is okay and I can vouch that he would love to make Park Jimin jealous.”

I bit my lip worriedly. “I don’t know Mina. Sounds far-fetched and…”

I looked down when my twitter notification went off, obviously from Jimin’s account.

It was a group photo; Seokjin, Taehyung and Jungkook sitting around Jimin…with Hyerin on his lap. I cursed.

“Can I talk to him first?”

Mina didn’t look much thrilled by the notion but shrugged anyway. “We can go see him tomorrow.”

Mina’s idea of ‘going to see her friend’ was to take me through to a narrow street with barely any space for two people to walk side by side. I followed her meekly as she led us to a more open space, a door being guarded by a heavyset man.

“Hey Anton,” she greeted, pushing back her hood then jerking her thumb back towards me. “I brought a newbie.”

Anton gave me a once over, grimacing a little at my plain grey shirt, jacket and jeans. Next to Mina’s glittering silver hoodie, and purple pants, I probably looked homeless, but I didn’t let it get to me too much. No matter his personal aversion to my style, however, Anton moved aside, swinging the door inwards.

“Thanks, Ant, have a good one.” Mina patted the broad man’s shoulder, barely touching the top of his arm and I ducked in beside her.

“Where are we?” I asked.

The inside was an explosion of dark lights. Red, white and black was strewn everywhere, flashing lights making it difficult to see anything at all and I very nearly grabbed Mina’s hand like a child to keep from getting lost.

“It’s an underground club. It’s where performance pieces are tried out on an audience.” Mina explained.

“Oh,” I mumbled.

Mina and I walked past the bodies occupying the center space, heading for the bar. My roommate seemed to be looking for someone, weaving through the crowds till she reached a particular man, wearing a huge jacket as he poured over a messy notebook.

The man looked up at our approach, shooting a smile at Mina immediately. “Hey,” they greeted each other with a hug while I hung behind.

The man had thick glasses on, sandy blond hair ruffled under his hood when he took it off. “Joon, this is Y/N, my roommate. This is Kim Namjoon, Y/N. He’s one of the best rappers here and he also goes to our campus.” Mina introduced.

Namjoon gave me a dimpled smile, putting out a hand for me to shake. I took it, looking back and forth between Mina and Namjoon, confused. “I haven’t ever seen him in our classes.” I said.

Namjoon chuckled, answering, “I’m rarely there actually. I go because I need the degree but I spend most of my time composing here.”

I nodded at his explanation. Mina glanced about. “Where’s the J-Hope?” She asked.

“He’s backstage already, it’s his set next.” Namjoon told her, binding his notebook.

“What’s a J-Hope?” I asked.

Mina gave me a sly smile. “He’s the one we’re here to see.” She said.

“His name is J-Hope?” I asked, incredulously. What was I supposed to do with that?

“No, it’s his stage name. It’s kind of an inner joke he has. Don’t worry about it.” Namjoon waved at the bartender. “If you guys are going to stay, you’ll need drinks.” Mina enthusiastically joined at that, leaving me to linger behind a bit.

Was I making the right choice here? What would happen if I did meet this J-Hope, whose real name I hadn’t still found out and he turned out to be some wacko? Namjoon seemed fine enough and Mina was alright, but was everyone in this place all over okay?

I didn’t hear Mina ask for my order when the next minute, lights fell, thrusting the room into near black with one spotlight aimed at the stage where the announcer stood.

“Next up…! You know who he is…yes, put your hands together for J-Hope!”

Cheers and applause broke out, screams ranging from farther back reaching my ears and I politely clapped as the lights came on again, much more flashier and erratic than before.

Beats started from somewhere, low but quickly picking pace. It was catchy, I had to admit with a beat drop I felt in my stomach and then the rapper emerged, his words already midway.

“That’s J-Hope, Jung Hoseok.” I started a little, feeling Mina appear at my elbow, drink in hand and eyes calmly examining the rapper’s performance.

“He composed the song?” I asked, feeling Mina nod.

I had to say, he was impressive. The song was distinctly understated, the beat not really flamboyant but the words and his enunciation made up for it. Small quirks of his voice broke out mid song and the slight slur he had only made the song’s effect lasting. That combined with the distressed baggy jeans, tight army jacket and a bucket hat pulled low over his eyes – he looked like a professional.

“He’s really good. I loved it.” I said, when Hoseok finished, taking a curt bow and flashing a sudden smirk, half face still hidden before he vanished behind the curtain.

On the other side of me, Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not the only one.” He said, indicating the still screaming girls. I cringed at a few who were blatantly shouting about what they wanted him to do to them.

I was going to ask this man – this overwhelmingly popular man – to act as my fake boyfriend till Jimin took notice. What had I just walked into?

“Mina, I need to go backstage. Do you and Y/N want to come with?” Namjoon asked, slipping his glasses off and replacing them with black shades.

“Yeah, I need to make a few introductions.” Mina muttered, putting her cup down and grabbing my arm. “Let’s go.”

The backstage to the club was quieter. The screaming that previously deafened me had dimmed by now, eagerly awaiting the next artist to scream for and the lull was bliss to my poor ears and more than likely to the performers also.

Mina and I walked with Namjoon, through the small section where I spied the announcer taking a drink and some boys chatting up fans obviously.

“I’ll be going on now. Make sure you don’t leave without saying goodbye.” Namjoon called, nudging Mina a little with his shoulder before pointing over her head. “There’s Hobi and Yoongi. Go wait with them.”

I watched Namjoon depart, with a small wave in my direction that I smiled at before Mina was leading me over to where two men were deep in conversation.

“Boys,” Mina threw her arms over their necks in lieu of a greeting. The smaller boy jumped a little, immediately retaliating with a smack. “Bitch, I didn’t see you during my performance.”

“I work for a living, Min. Plus, I came, didn’t I? I also brought a friend.” She turned to me, gesturing me to come forward. I took a small step forward.

Two heads turned to me in surprise, eyes boggling a bit. “You have friends?” The taller one, Hoseok obviously, asked. This time it was him getting smacked before Mina snorted. “Only this one, actually; this is my precious, sweet roommate, Y/N. Y/N, this goof here is Yoongi, and that jackass,” she paused, heavy with implication, “is Jung Hoseok.”

My eyes helplessly fixed on Hoseok, who was looking right back at me. His hat was gone, hair falling to the front in a sweaty mass. His head was thrown back, cheekbones high and flushed. His eyes were a little narrowed in thought and he glimmered in perspiration but somehow managed to not look gross.

He was actually surprisingly good looking – hot even. I could understand the screaming girls now. If he looked like this, and his rap sounded like that…well, he probably deserved more screaming fans.

“Looks like your girl has a crush, Mina, she didn’t even look at me.” Yoongi cut in suddenly.

I shook my head immediately, turning to him with a smiling apology. “No sorry; I’m just a little overwhelmed. I’ve never been to an underground rap thing before.” I explained.

“Ah, you’re a little newbie.” Yoongi smirked, teasing with small teeth full on display. Eh, it was cute. Were all Mina’s friends so surprisingly adorable under their intimidating personas?

“What’s the matter, Min? You jealous a chick is eyeing me instead of you?” Hoseok shot at his friend, who grimaced.

“Dude, I don’t need to be jealous of you and your chicks. I distinctly remember a few of yours having STDs the last time. I have enough to handle. Besides, what if she’s already dibbed by Namjoon?”

“Then a duel can happen,” Mina cut in quickly. “Now, are you going to get us drinks or what?”

The drinks happened once Namjoon had joined us. Mina had already given me a silent signal and while I was quickly loosing nerve, I knew I had to take at least one shot. If he refused, well…I could just die in shame, never try crossing paths with him, maybe move out of the shared apartment and oh, die alone. Maybe I could get a nice cat – a Persian.

The three rappers took me and Mina to a booth, sliding in and letting out groans of comfort.

“It’s always better once everyone leaves and we can just chill.” Namjoon explained to me. I hummed, sipping gingerly at my coffee. My eyes drifted, watching where some of the workers had started sweeping out balloons, confetti and glitter. Some were polishing equipment and glasses and even Anton was at a table, nursing a drink. I saw the bartender by the front, counting bills.

“Do you earn from this?” I asked.

“Why, thinking of trying to give us some competition?” Hoseok leaned forward, straight across from me, a haughty grin spread across his face.

I blinked, taken aback. “You don’t seem to have much confidence in your skills, if you think I can give you competition.”

The comment was out before I could even think of stopping it. It bubbled out and I smacked my mouth shut, eyes widening.

Oh fuck, I did not just say that.

There was a stunned silence, a look of genuine surprise passing over Hoseok’s face as he gaped at me. Mina was smirking proudly while Namjoon and Yoongi guffawed openly.

“Nice, blatant insulting mixed with a little self depreciation. You’ll fit right in, Y/N.” Namjoon laughed.

Yoongi chose to answer my question. “We do earn some. You have to start a novice, of course. That’s a no pay show until you create a fan base and you know, actually have people screaming for you. Management gives you…a promotion then. The club hosts us, promotes us, and gives us special shows, even solos. The ones who buy tickets to watch us are what make us special. The money is divided between us and the club.”

“That’s really wonderful. You must all work hard.” I said.

“Yeah, which is why we spend all our time here; composing and writing verses. College is great and all, but we’re artists. Exposure is everything at this stage.” Namjoon added.

I caught Hoseok giving Mina a look and blushed. He was probably going to rant about how I was a loud mouthed idiot. There go all my chances.

“Well guys, this has been great but Y/N has classes tomorrow and I got to get to work. I’ll see you guys very soon.” Min got to her feet, her eyes on me. I took my cue, standing up as well.

Yoongi and Namjoon griped, Hoseok lounging back almost as if he was expecting something. At Mina’s pointedly raised eyebrows, I tossed caution to the winds. “Um, Hoseok, can I have a word?”

There was a pause in which Hoseok turned calm, cool eyes on me, his face blank. Then, slowly, fluidly, he got to his feet, looking at me expectantly.

I turned, keeping my head down to hide my furious blush. Namjoon wolf whistled behind us. “Stop it, Joon, she just wants to apologize.” Mina quickly cut him off.

Hoseok followed me out through towards the exit, taking a turn in one of the smaller hallways.

“This way,” He said curtly, a jerk of his head indicating me to follow him while he led us out, hands deep in his jacket pockets. “It’ll be quieter here.”

I meekly obeyed, taking smaller steps compared to his long legged strides. We reached a double door, Hoseok pushing down the bar lock so we could slip out.

It was probably the back alley of the bar, lined with dumpsters, wooden and metal crates and various odds and ends expected of an underground club, I supposed. It was cooler here, breath rising up in visible white puffs from our mouths.

Hoseok walked to the farther back, leaning against it with one foot propped on the exposed, chipped bricks. “So, what did you want to talk about?” He asked. “I doubt it’s an apology for what you said.”

I frowned a little at that. Mina had said that to hide my ulterior motives, something I was grateful to her for but that did not mean I was going to actually do it.

“I can if you think it’ll help you.” I said, letting just a hint of acid creep into my voice.

Hoseok managed a laugh. “No, Y/N, I don’t need you to appease my bruised ego. Just get on with it.” He said.

I nodded, taking one deep breath. “I have something of a proposition for you.” I said.

The boy in front of me tilted his head to one side. “What kind of proposition?”

I fought hard to not close my eyes, to not let the intimidating Hoseok render me speechless. All I had to do was spit it out. What was the worst that could happen? He could refute the proposal, the least humiliating. He could laugh and call me delusional or a conniving bitch. That, well, that I’d just have to handle without trying to let the fact bother me that I did not come off as pleasant in this situation either way.

The worst of it was probably that I knew it, and yet I was going through with it.

So, without missing another beat, I let her rip. I told him about Jimin, my desire for him and what I wanted him to do. I tried to say it without sounding ridiculous but with the plan out – yes, I could hear the dumbness of it.

I was asking Jung Hoseok – popular, famed, sexy Jung Hoseok, on whom girls and maybe boys threw their bodies with wild abandon – to act as my boyfriend, till Park Jimin took notice, felt miraculously jealous and asked me out. What was the logic? Why would Jimin, hopefully more sensible than me, ask me out when he thought I was with Hoseok?

Even as I finished, Hoseok had lounged further, now looking a little bored.

“Yeah, I know; Mina already told me.”

I stuttered to a stop.

“Mina…she told you what now?” I asked a little weakly.

“All of that which you just said. I already knew that.” He waved a finger in the air to show ‘all that’.

“Hang on…if you knew already; why would you ask me to say it all again?” Irritation had flared up in my throat, fighting the rising embarrassment.

Hoseok shrugged. “Call it an experiment. Mina said you and she discussed this late at night. Weird decisions are made late at night. You showing up here were surprising. So I wanted to see if you could say what you wanted.”

I lolled back on the balls of my feet, staring at him. “So, what’s the conclusion?”

He didn’t answer the question. “I need you to know this. I don’t get along with Park Jimin a lot. I don’t have a problem annoying the shit out of him. I just need to know if you’re up for this.” He lowered his head to pin me with a gaze that was of warning and stern grievance at once.

I paused, weighing options that might mean a whole of an eventful year. Then came; the crinkled, wide smile that Jimin beamed, his golden skin gleaming in the sunlight.

I looked up to give Hoseok a steeled look. “Yes, I’m in.” I said firmly.

Hoseok’s blank stern face melted into a wicked smirk, eyes shining with mocking intent. “We’ll see about that. I hope you’re ready for a fun ride,” He paused heavily, “baby girl.”

[svtskneecaps]

Darling, We’ve Got Time : Part 10

Vernon and Seungkwan’s little group of time state deserters has been leading Seungcheol’s team of time agents on a Tom-and-Jerry chase through the timestream for what may have been the entirety of their career–different setting, same result–but the tides are starting to shift. Things aren’t adding up to the time agents, and all the deserters can hope is to sow enough seeds for them to finally put the pieces together.

(Seventeen Time Travel AU; no reader)

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They told Seungcheol a small lie and met Public Enemies One and Two of the Time State at a quaint cafe in Los Angeles.

“Chan tells us you started to notice,” Vernon said seriously, fingers laced together like they were at a business meeting and he was wearing a suit instead of an oversized Hawaiian shirt.

“We keep forgetting things,” Mingyu said, a coffee going cold in his hands. “Why?”

“That’d be the time state,” Seungkwan said. “Any memories containing feelings going slightly deeper than casual comradery get wiped during regular checkups. Any memories containing amicable feelings towards a deserter also get wiped, which is why you don’t know us.”

“So you knew us?” Minghao asked.

“Sort of, yes.” Vernon took a sip of his drink. “Enough to know your fascination with the sixties, anyway. How’d you enjoy Woodstock, by the by? You never said.”

“It was amazing. The part I managed to catch, anyway.”

“And that’s how you know all this stuff about us?” Mingyu asked.

“Yeah. All of us worked with you guys’ team at some point, before we figured out the whole ‘wiping’ thing and dipped,” Vernon said.

“Obviously the time corp wasn’t super enthused with the idea,” Seungkwan said, snickering. “Who’d have guessed?”

“But anyway.” Vernon set his drink on the table and leaned forward. “Now that you know the truth, what comes next?”

The time agents looked at each other. Honestly, Mingyu didn’t think he knew. He hadn’t gotten past ‘getting answers’. He didn’t think he could stay and keep forgetting, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to desert if Minghao planned to stay behind.

Evidently, the others saw their indecision. “Come with us,” Seungkwan offered. “You can meet the rest of the gang for real. If you decide to go back, we’ll jump you to this exact moment with Captain Cheol none the wiser.”

And Mingyu looked at Minghao and recognized the decision in his eyes, the decision he felt deep in his own bones.

“Okay,” they said.

Seungkwan’s face split open into a grin and he rolled up his sleeve. “Man, they’re gonna be thrilled. Fair warning, nobody expected to get another newcomer this early. Reactions could be mixed.” He spun dials on his watch with a practiced ease that Mingyu watched curiously (he’d never seen anyone work a handheld up close). “Alright, everybody hold on.”

They formed a hand holding chain around the table, and Seungkwan pressed the button. With a roar like thunder, the table vanished.

As did the chairs, dumping them onto the ground.

“Ah,” Seungkwan said, picking himself up and brushing the dust off. “Guess I didn’t consider the possibility that the chairs would have moved.”

Vernon bumped his side. “This is why I usually choose the jump times.”

Seungkwan shoved him right back.

Seokmin came barrelling out of a nearby building, skidding to a stop in front of them. “Lee Seokmin,” he said, thrusting his hand out for them to shake.

“We know,” Minghao said, but shook anyway. “Xu Minghao.”

“We know,” Jeonghan echoed, coming out of the building at a more reasonable pace, Jun and Chan following behind him.

“Well, did you know I was almost crowned King Arthur in medieval England?” Seokmin said, crossing his arms.

Mingyu blinked. “No.”

“Didn’t think so!”

“So that’s the kind of stuff you guys get up to?” Minghao asked. “Screwing around with timelines everywhere?”

“Time fixes its own holes,” Jun said. “For example, nothing we’ve done has made the Titanic miss the iceberg, and we’ve tried pretty much everything. There’s no worry about mucking up the timeline.”

“So the time state was lying?” Mingyu asked. “I spent years of my life training for a lie?”

Jun shrugged. “We all did. It’s just profitable for them to control all of time travel. If they perpetuate the myth that reckless time travelling could destroy life as we know it, they’ve effectively got a stranglehold on tourism.”

Minghao scowled. “We have to tear their false system down.”

“We will,” Jeonghan said. “But it doesn’t seem like a very good idea to start a revolution when former friends of ours could be the ones pointing a gun at us. I wouldn’t be able to shoot them, would you?”

Mingyu tried to imagine Wonwoo standing against him, blaster aimed to kill. Could he?

“No,” he said.

Chan nodded. “We have to be patient,” he said. “It sucks a lot of the time, but it’s been working so far. You two figured it out, I’m sure the rest aren’t far behind.”

“How long?” Minghao asked, and Mingyu knew who he was thinking of.

“Could take a day, could take a year.” Vernon shrugged. “Time is relative. Your guess is as good as ours. Probably better; they have to have changed since we left.”

“A week, then,” Minghao said, and he sounded so convinced, Mingyu almost believed it.

Soonyoung saw them vanish. And he waited. And he waited. And they didn’t come back, and they didn’t come back, and they didn’t come back.

And he was conflicted.

Because he liked Minghao. He knew he was a good guy and Mingyu was a good guy and he didn’t know why they were out there talking with traitors. They had all looked very serious, and he hadn’t been able to hear what they were saying, and now, trudging back to the time ship, he worried that they’d been traitors the whole time.

And he’s struck with the realization that he was going to be hunting his teammates (his friends) through time.

And he had to break this to the team. Somehow.

Minghao worked in his department, under his jurisdiction, and Soonyoung allowed this to happen. Maybe even made this happen; he harbored his own rebellious sentiments that he tried and failed to quell time and time again.

He can’t help but feel like this is his fault.

When he told them, Seungcheol punched a wall. Joshua went very pale. Jihoon’s face turned to stone.

Wonwoo just looked stunned.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve burst in and stopped them before this went too far,” Soonyoung said, fighting to keep a lid on his emotions before the anguish broke out.

“Right,” Seungcheol said, and when he turned around his face was hard. “We’re down two men. Wonwoo, can you track?”

“Sure,” he said, even though tracking was always Mingyu’s thing even during training and it was obvious that everyone felt queasy at the thought of anyone else taking over his job, but Wonwoo had the skill set for it and that was what they needed.

“They’ve been brainwashed,” Seungcheol said, “but we can still bring them back. The time state can counteract it.”

A white light flashed in the distance. Soonyoung stood for his checkup. Seungcheol balled his fist like he was going to punch the wall again. Joshua touched his elbow and he released it, but he still seemed livid.

“We’ll get them back,” he said. “And these fugitives will pay for what they’ve done.”

When Soonyoung came back from his checkup, everything was wrong.

Wonwoo saw him come in while he was trying to figure out Mingyu’s setup, and despite everything he looked. . . cheerful.

“You know you don’t have to act happy,” Wonwoo said. “We’re all upset.”

“I’m not acting,” Soonyoung said, and it sounded so genuine Wonwoo tore himself away from the computer to raise an eyebrow at him.

“You were just torn up about it, how are you so chipper? Minghao was like your protege ever since he joined the team; he was your favorite.”

“Are you sure?” Soonyoung tilted his head, seeming bemused. “I always thought he was sort of flaky. It was really a matter of waiting before he ran off. A shame he had to take Mingyu with him, though.”

Wonwoo was officially lost. “Soonyoung you adored him. Everybody knew. You were devastated when you gave us the news he’d deserted.”

Soonyoung frowned. “Of course I wasn’t. Xu Minghao was never a top priority.”

And then he left like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t just rocked Wonwoo’s whole perspective. And Wonwoo just.

Didn’t know what to do.

[valiantvigilant]

Me? Jealous? As If! (Dick Grayson x Reader)

Hello everyone! Before I do a lil description of this one shot, I would like to apologize for the fact that I didn’t get a chance to post this a few days ago like I wanted to. As I explained in the little updates, I am in 3 AP classes and they are very time consuming. Especially AP Biology. But, I was able to finish this up finally and here it is!

I know an anon requested some more jealous! Dick Grayson, and I had a few ideas which I tried to go with (a lot of them are half finished and such because I didn’t like how they were going) and then I finally came up with this! Enjoy!

______

Dick Grayson never thought that he would be the jealous type. Especially when it came to his own brothers.

You had been spending a lot of time with his three younger brothers lately. Jason had asked you to help him with some new designes for improvements on his guns, Tim and you go for coffee quite often, and lastly there’s Damian. Surprisingly enough, Damian was the one Dick was the most jealous of. His youngest brother practically drags you away every time you are at the Manor. You and your boyfriend haven’t seen each other lately, him being busy with his job as a cop and his vigilante work, and you being occupied with his brothers. Being apart from you for so long…well, it was starting to get to him.

On this particular night, he had come home late from patrol, around 3 AM. Usually he was home about 2 and you would be sitting in the living room of your shared apartment, watching Tom and Jerry reruns. However, when he got home you weren’t in the living room. In fact, you weren’t anywhere. Not the kitchen, the bathroom, or the bedroom. Worry filled his gut and he instantly pulled out his phone, dialing your number.

“Hello?” You answered.

“(Y/N)! Thank God! I thought something happened to you! I came home and you weren’t there and I didn’t see a note or anything and is as worried,” Dick rambled as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m perfectly fine, no need to worry. I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note, it must’ve slipped my mind. I’m at the Manor.” Of course you were there. When were you not there? At this moment, hearing that you were all the way out in Gotham broke his heart a little. Dick wanted nothing more than to strip of his uniform and crawl into bed with you. God, he missed you. You both have been so busy lately…he finally was nearing his breaking point. “Dick?” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Why are you at the Manor? Did something happen?” He asked you.

“Oh, well, just after you left for the night I recieved a call from Bruce asking if I could take care of Damian. He has the flu and isn’t going on patrol tonight. Alfred can’t watch him because he has to monitor Bruce via the Bat Computer.”

“Oh,”

“I can come home now, I think Bruce should be home soon,”

“No. No, I’ll be over there shortly.” He replied in a some-what snappy manner.

“Is everything okay?” You question skeptically.

“Just peachy (Y/N)!” He stated sarcastically. “Things might be a bit better if I actually got to see my girlfriend if she wasn’t so busy with my brother!” You opened your mouth to reply but he had hung up the phone. Your eyebrows knit together, and you cross your arms over your chest.

“(Y/N)?” Damian croaked from the living room. In his state of sickness, you decided this would be a prime opportunity to introduce him to the wonderful world of Star Wars. You had told him to proceed with the movie when you took the phone call and you were now standing in the middle of the kitchen, clutching your phone.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” You reply. Sighing you think back on the phone call.

“He is jealous,” a voice said from behind you. You didn’t jump, but just turned around, seeing Jason standing there.

“You’re home early,” you state.

“Yeah, I finished a whole 30 minutes early today,” he said, not too excitedly considering it wasn’t too big of a difference. “Still coddling Demon Spawn, huh?”

“Might I remind you, Jaybird, who took care of you when you had the flu as a child. Oh yes. That would be me.” You reply with a smirk. His face flushed and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking to the side. “Looks like Dick isn’t the only one who is jealous.” Jason gritted his teeth at your teasing. You chuckle lightly at his silence. Jason knew you were right, he did miss having you smother him. You were practically the older sister the three of them never had.

“Dick misses you more than I do,” Jason said. “You two haven’t been spending much time together and I believe he is going through (Y/N) withdrawal.”

“I’ve noticed. That phone call wasn’t the cheeriest one I’ve had.” You sigh again and run your fingers through your hair. “I assume Timmy came home with you. The two of you can come watch Star Wars with us if you’d like.”

And that’s how Dick Grayson came home to the Manor to see his three younger brothers, surrounding you as you all watched The Empire Strikes Back. He frowned and felt his heart drop. All he wanted was to spend time with you. To collapse into your arms and bury his face in your hair. To sleep, the two of your tangled up together in the sheets. The jealousy built up inside him and he cleared his throat, catching all four of your attentions. “Hello my love, you’re just in time for The Empire Strikes Back!” You state with a smile.

“(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?” He asks. You nod and stand up, telling them to continue watching without you. Dick and you find your way into another room for some privacy.

“Why are you spending so much time with them?” He demands.

“Your brothers?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. You’re always with them. Always. Lately we barely have been able to see each other and during the time we are able, you’re with them.” He rants. You look at him and a light laugh escapes your lips. “Why are you laughing?!”

“I never thought I’d see the day where Dick Grayson is jealous. I mean, I thought so on the phone, but now that I’m seeing it with my own two eyes…I really can’t believe it!”

“W-What?!” He stutters, cheeks starting to fill with color. “Me? Jealous? As if!” His weak attempt at denial only made you laugh harder. He tried to convince you, he really did. He was Dick Grayson. Level headed and calm. He didn’t get jealous.

“Oh my dear, I love you very much,” you say with a smile as you walk towards him. His face was hotter than the sun as you cupped his face in your hands. You leaned forwards and pressed a loving kiss to his lips. He kissed back (quite passionately,) and when you pulled away you smiled again. “If you wanted to spend alone time with me, you can say something you know. I figured you would say something before it went as far as you becoming jealous of your little brothers,” you giggle. He blushed once more and hugged you, pressing your face to his chest so you wouldn’t see his embarrassment.

“I miss spending time with you. And maybe, I was a little jealous,” he said. You looked up and raised a brow at him. “Okay, okay. I was more than a little jealous.”

“So, how’s about we head back to the apartment and spend a little time together, hm?” You murmur in his ear.

“That sounds wonderful.”

-

“I was going through (Y/N) withdrawal,” he mumbled, kissing your bare neck as the two of you laid in the bed, your limbs intertwined.

“I figured that one out already,” you smirked.

______

Well, here it is! This is the one shot I’ve been saying I would post and it’s finally posted! I apologize again for having to put it off till the weekend! I hope you enjoyed!

[accendimi]

Stay With Me { Greenies + Djali }

Sometimes a couple boys need to save an old Superhero.

Triggers: None.

Set Early August, Prior to the big Harry Potter Event 

@wazowskiofthemikevariety

SARINA

 It was two days before Jelly was going to leave town. She had two more days to play with everyone in Swynlake and leave with a full belly before terrorizing a whole other group of people in London. At this point Sarina’s voice was a quiet hum in her head. Barely there. She had fought for a long time but there was always a point that humans gave up. It was something that Jelly had learned over a couple of hosts.

 Now she was just learning how stupid and stubborn this Mike human was. Perhaps she should have gone after him. He would have been easy to compel. Even if Jelly didn’t like being in men’s bodies. And since she wouldn’t bother controlling him she was up for one more night of messing with him.

 After all, he was the stupid one to invite her over, even though time and time again she had been able to feed off emotions around him. And that continued to be her plan when she knocked on the door. Short shorts. Crop top. Thigh-high boots she was ready to seduce him.

 And when he opened the door Jelly smirked. “I see you came to your senses.” Jelly said as she pushed her way in.

 MIKE

Mike was freaking the fuck out, almost vibrating with anxiety. About Sarina. About Djali. About the potential demon he was letting into his house. Hadn’t he just gotten rid of a ghost? He was barely keeping his hands on the back of the chair he was using to help him stand in his kitchen, jumping from one spot to another and then back again.  

So, nothing new. 

This time though he had a reason to be so fidgety and to feel like he was going to drop to the floor any minute since his blood was racing around and around and around, making his legs unstable and wobbly. His phone was on the table in front of him, screen facing upwards so when it lit up he would know about it. It was always the lead up to these kinds of things, not that Mike had ever tried to prove his friend was being possessed and then lead them into a trap in order to perform an exorcism before,  but it held the same energy as waiting for test results from a doctor. Waiting was the worst part, allowing his mind to think too much and begin to melt away into something that couldn’t be brought back.

Then there was a knock on the door, startling him. Shit, they were here. Mike glanced around the kitchen before heading off to go answer it. Everything was set up, and he knew because he couldn’t have sent the text asking for “Sarina,” to come over without having triple checked everything was ready to go. 

Now the only thing that he had to do was not blow their cover. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this- Mike pulled open the door before the creeping doubt could keep him from doing so.

“Hey!” he said, a bit too high and a bit too loud. 

Nope. Wait, he had to play this cool. Flirt. He could flirt. He had read several articles on it, watched movies and tv where people flirted all the time. He cleared his throat, “You look really nice! Did you cut the shirt yourself or buy it like that?”  

SARINA

Jelly looked over Mike with a smirk. Her eyebrows didn’t raise in amusement the same way Sarina’s would have. She wasn’t amused. She was just entertained to see what she could get out of him. And as far as she was aware she was not going to get caught, now or in the two days in which she was going to leave the town.

“Nice? I look Nice? I look amazing, sexy, gorgeous, great at minimum.” Jelly corrected pushing herself into his place looking around. She could pull at Sarina’s memories but she was ready to start being herself. 

“What did you need from me this wonderful day?”

MIKE

“Well,” he said, because he was going to ignore his blunders in favor of getting her further into the house.  Just had to keep trudging through the mud here, otherwise he would stand still for too long and start to sink under.

He started walking, heading to the left. Out of the mud and out of her range of reach before she could corner him. Crowd him up against a wall like she had at the University like some kind of game of cat and mouse. Only this time he had to be a mouse with the smarts of Jerry to her Tom in order to goad her into the first trap.

It was a simple one. He had drawn the sigil that had been proven to trap demons of lower levels inside of it. The edged would act like an invisible barrier, keeping her within the confines of the drawn lines. It had taken some paint, a bit of help from a local sorcerer, and a new carpet to cover it up, but overall simple. Anyone could DIY it as long as they were as vigilant to get the sigil just right like himself.

“I don’t know, what exactly is it that you’re offering?”  Mike asked, attempting to make match her level of playfulness. He had wandered into the living room, stopping on the carpet to turn back. Mike raised his eyebrows in question, his exterior attempting not to give away the way his heart had started to make his chest ache from beating so violently in his chest. 

SARINA

The boy slipped away before Jelly could sink her claws into him and she narrowed her eyes at him. He was different and she barely knew him. He had stuttered the last time. He couldn’t have handled her even if he wanted to but that’s why he was fun. He was like a little mouse running around her trap.

And she didn’t like chasing. 

Staying by the door to the living room Jelly looked him over, not hiding her eyes as they trailed him from toe to head. Taking note of the things that she actually did like. 

He could be fun if she held his hand through it. Which made her nose turn at the idea.

“Well you can have all of me. I like being on top so you wouldn’t have to do much but listen to me when I talk and worship me.”

MIKE

Jesus tap dancing Christ, Mike almost choked on his own spit.

And, look, okay, Mike was a guy who had only experienced romance in the smallest forms. Most of the time it was through media or from hearing about his siblings’ love lives. The only time he had ever even gone on a date it hadn’t actually been a date, just a miscommunication, and now here he was being talked to so straight forwards he didn’t know what the fuck to do with that. Especially when it was coming out of the mouth of one of his best friends.

Not that Sarina had never made those comments, had asked him about his dating life, but this was beyond that. And nothing was going to become of it because Sarina, the real Sarina, didn’t see him in that light. Which was completely fine, she had taste, you know. It just made him feel like a slim ball, taking advantage of her when she wasn’t even in her talking here.

He needed to focus, they hadn’t moved and in order to prove his theory he was going to need them to come closer. He could have a crisis about his pathetic lack of experience later. Like when Sarina was out of danger and this demon was gone.

“Right,” he said slowly, unable to hide the hot flush of his skin. Mike smiled, shrugging, “Well, I can do that, easy. I’m very good at listening.” 

SARINA

Jelly grinned. She had him right in her hands didn’t she? One kiss and he was wrapped around her fingers. She could call him over, beckon him with one finger and put him on his knees. The grin on her lips was almost predatory. 

“I bet you are. After all something for sure has gotten into you.” Jelly stated taking that step forward. Beyond confident that she hadn’t been caught, that no one could know what she was, that she wasn’t worried.

But then she caught a brief thought from Sarina.

That something was wrong, That Mike would never agree this easily. He wouldn’t put himself out there like this. For a moment Sarina had hope and Jelly crushed the feeling with just a thought. But she did take notice. If Sarina had noticed something then there was something worth noticing.

So Jelly moved to step back. Only she couldn’t. Spinning around Jelly placed her hand on the made barrier. 

“What did you do Mike?” Jelly asked spinning around to him all amusement gone as she raised an eyebrow at him.

MIKE

For as confident as Mike felt about saying that Sarina was being possessed he had also just been hoping that he was wrong.  That she had just hit some kind of roof and had decided to be a total jerk. Sure, it would have hurt like a limb getting cut off to know that he hadn’t been a good enough friend to her to have been worthy of keeping the title through the personality change, but this was so much worse.

He watched on as she came forwards, anticipation clawing at him to break. Mike kept his eyes firmly on her, staying in character as she got closer and closer until she stepped onto the carpet. 

“What’s up?” he asked, innocent, when she stopped. Because if he was wrong, if this was just Sarina, then he was going to have to continue to keep up this act. He would somehow have to brush her off, call Djali out here to apologize and then curl up under a blanket and sleep for a year. Or five. Case closed, moving on.

Then Sarina stepped back in her hesitation and her hand touched the air, knocking against something he couldn’t see.

He was definitely going to throw up.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Sarina- no, not Sarina, totally not-Sarina asked, What did you do, Mike? and turned to face him.

Mike did not panic. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t panic considering the fact that he almost had a psychological breakdown from a kiss and that was nothing, absolutely fucking nothing, compared to this. 

Compared to Sarina being possessed by an actual demon. And that he had only just noticed.

He jumped back, out of the sigil’s circle, feeling a weird surge of confidence. He had been right! And he had trapped a demon! Now they just needed to get them out of her.

“Is Sarina still in there?” he asked, voice wavering, momentarily blinded by a spike of anger and worry for his friend who, for all he knew, could have been reduced to nothing but a single string of thought due to his fucking ignorance.

SARINA

So Jelly had been too confident. She had played too close to fire and she was going to get burned.

The demon expert human could actually tell she was a demon. But that didn’t mean that Jelly was worried. Humans were nothing but insignificant bugs that she could crush under her boot and Mike would learn that. Not only did Jelly have her own demon powers, but she also had Sarina’s. And Sarina liked to play with heat. All she had to do was light up and the boy in front of her would-be literal toast.

Sarina didn’t like that thought though.

Still Jelly stalked forward until she ran into the other side of the circle. “At least you were smart enough to not let me get my hands on you.” Jelly spoke her voice taking on a sweeter tone. She would compel him if she needed to.  “Sarina’s the reason I knew how to manipulate you. How to pull at all your little heartstrings.” Jelly taunted. “Now sweet sweet boy.” That sultry tone came onto her voice again ready to command him.

“-Don’t listen to her. Literally-” Sarina called out strain in her voice as Jelly grimaced lighting her hands with that familiar green energy. 

“Let’s ignore that yes?”

MIKE

Mike’s teeth chattered when he closed his mouth. He curled his fingers in against the palms of his hands because they wouldn’t stop shaking.  He flinched when the Demon began to move towards him, stumbling until the backs of his shins hit the fireplace. Despite knowing that they couldn’t get out, that they were stuck in there until they could get this exorcism show on the road, his brain still had to react to someone coming up on him with a look of complete hatred in their eyes.

Normally Mike could take the mean comments; they went as far as skin deep. They were small lacerations to the surface because he was used to them by now. 28 years in and he could roll with the punches and insults. They weren’t new or innovative. He knew, from years of reading about encounters and hearing people’s stories about their conversations with demons, that this was all for the defense. They were just trying to manipulate him since they couldn’t touch him physically. 

But it was working.

He could feel the heat from the start of tears forming in his eyes and the biting pain of heartache behind his ribs. Of course they had. It wasn’t like he knew how to be discreet. He felt too much and too loudly and desperately wished he didn’t. But that didn’t change anything. 

They were right, he had been so stupid, so fucking blind. How had it taken him this long to see it? They had played him for months. How was he supposed to help Sarina if it had taken him, the so called “Demonologist,” this long to have figured out what was going on?

His knees started to buckle, and he was going to collapse to the floor, caught in a loop of self-doubt, until Sarina broke through.  

The bottom of his stomach dropped out and he felt like he could just as easily throw up as he could hold it back. He swallowed hard against the flood of saliva in his mouth. She was in there! She was in there and she was alive and she was so much smarter than him it was a wonder how she put up with him.

“Yes! Ignoring. Good. Okay.” He clapped his hands over his ears, “Don’t worry! You’re going to be okay! I promise.” 

SARINA

Jelly just laughed. The boy could not listen all he wanted and Sarina could fight all that she wanted. She was getting out of this. With energy that melted things in her hand all she needed to do was knock Mike out. Find the circle burn that and she would be out. It was easy.

“Pathetic. Truly pathetic. When I leave this town I will crush her and you’ll never hear her again. Not that you’re going to live past this.” Lifting her hand Jelly threw an energy blast at Mike. A little wide but it wasn’t her magic so she re-aimed.

DJALI

Okay, so, on the list of weird things Djali had done, hiding in the bathroom while his demon-possessed friend hit on some dork of a guy really hard was definitely up there. Sarina’d entered at first, and just hearing her voice, it was hard to think that this was a good idea. Djali felt like a fraud, getting in the way of… Whatever this was without even knowing whether or nor Mike’s guess was the right one. 

But it had to be--that’s what Djali’d told himself. It made sense, and nothing felt right, and so it had to be true.

Because Djali didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t. He didn’t know where he’d have to stand, how to feel. It felt like he’d been driving down a gravel road since that other day. Uncertain, and slippery. 

And now he was in a bathroom. Golf club wrapped between white knuckles as he pressed his ear up to the door, where everything sounded like it was being said through a cardboard tube, gradually growing longer and longer, until at some point Djlai could barely hear anything at all. All he could be certain of was that a conversation was being had. 

Then came the blast. 

There was no mistaking that one. 

It smelled like burnt hair and protest carnage, and Djali used the noise from the fallout to quickly open the door, unnoticed, and patter down the hallway. He had half a nerve to stop before he could be seen, wait with his back to the wall like this was some great heist, but the circumstances didn’t allow. 

The buzz in the air was that of a re-load, and so Djali sprang into action. 

He bounded across the living room in long strides, the club poised and ready to strike, and brought it across, connecting with Sarina’s head just above the temple. 

SARINA

Sarina had stopped fighting awhile ago, at least until now, when someone she cared about was in trouble. He was one of a couple people here that Sarina actually cared about and she didn’t want Jelly to hurt him. She would rather Jelly walk away, take her body and her mind and leave Swynlake than hurt either one of the boys she cared about deeply.

So even as Jelly re-aimed her hand Sarina fought their hands shaking as they fought to retain control.

All their focus was on their hand and their magic and the girl in her head. If not Jelly would have been able to tell someone was sneaking up on her. As it was they didn’t.

As it was that golf club made contact.

As it was Sarina and Jelly felt the sting of a club to the head knocking them down and out collapsing to the ground.

Well wasn’t that a pathetic end.

MIKE 

When just his hands couldn’t drown out the sound of her voice, because that shit never really worked as well as everyone made it out to, he started to hum some nonsense just loud enough to not be able to hear her. Them. Looking at them, using Sarina’s mouth to talk while the only thing he could hear was his terrible rendition of Mr. Brightside it looked kind of like when the wrong Dub was placed over a movie.  

It also didn’t help him to notice that Sarina’s powers had sparked. They shot, catching to the left of him, hitting his fire place and making the paint of the brick sizzle. He yelped, falling back on his ass, hands reaching out to break his fall. 

Mike looked back up, eyes wide, only to watch as Djali came running in and wacked Sarina upside the head with the golf club. 

Silence filled the room after the thunk her body made when it landed down on the carpet. 

Slowly Mike stood up, glancing from the Demon to Djali and back again.

“Holy shit,” he said airly. Mike swallowed, “Thanks, man.” 

He took a step forwards, eyes looking over the Demon. A lot of things went through his mind in that moment that pertained to work, to the possibilities that could present itself, the answers he could get to so many questions should he just be allowed to ask them! 

But none of that mattered. 

“Alright, we better move before they wake up. Can you get the handcuffs on her? Er, them?” he said, snapping into action. Time was not on their side here. He frowned down at Sarina, tilting his head. “How do think we should pick her up? I get her legs and you get her under the arms? Or-?” 

DJALI

Djali was confident in his aim--the only thing he couldn’t be sure of was his strength. Sarina was tough to begin with, and then who knew what this demon might’ve done to her physical form, so really there was no telling whether or not this would do anything at all, or if they’d just have an even angrier demon on their hands. 

Sarina (because Djali refused to refer to her as anything else) fell to the ground.

Immediate regret--and then a feeling of success. Okay. Alright. The plan hadn’t suddenly fallen apart, that was good, that was ideal. Right? Right. 

“No problem.” Djali replied, letting the golf club fall from his hands. It clattered to the ground alongside Sarina’s crumpled body. Not a moment later did he turn to fetch the handcuffs from where they’d been stashed in a drawer not far away. See--the idea was not to have them in plain sight, not just for fear of suspicion, but also due to Mike’s potential incompetence. 

What a change in the plan it would have been if Djali had snuck out of the bathroom to find his partner handcuffed to the couch, huh? 

Not good. 

Slipping around Mike, Djali crouched down next to Sarina, propping her up so that he could arrange her hands in the cuffs behind her back. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “You can give me shit for this when you’re back.” 

And she would, as long as he reminded himself of the end goal, this was--fine. 

“No--no--you just stand back. I have got her.” Djali insisted, shooing Mike away. Like he trusted Mike to do any actual heavy lifting. He slid a hand under her knees, and secured the one already behind her back to scoop her up into his arms. Her head lolled onto his shoulder. 

Sorry. 

“Where do you need her?”

MIKE

He didn’t take the time to feel offended at being shot down to help move her, he just did as he was told, bringing a thumb to his mouth to bite at the nail as he watched Djali hoist her into his arms. Mike couldn’t help but to stare. She just looked so different. Vulnerable. It was disconcerting. He didn’t like it, he just wanted her to wake up, go back to being Sarina.

Which could happen if he got his shit together and got this show on the road.

“Right, sorry, uh- let’s get her through here,” he said, flicking his head towards the entryway to the kitchen. Mike led Djali out to the garage that was, sadly, pretty empty. He didn’t own a car, though he would like to. Or a motorbike. He didn’t even own a regular bike. The space had remained empty for the first few months he had moved into the house, but then, as he started to accumulate more things, it now held a few boxes for storage and the lawn mower.

As of today, it had a lot more than that.

Opening the door, just to the left was a small table sitting right up against the wall with all the supplies lined up, ready to use, in ritual order. Near the opposing wall was the same symbol he had etched onto the floor of his living room. Only this one wasn’t covered up by a carpet and was a tad smaller in size. In fact, it was only a tad smaller than the inflatable kiddie pool that was sitting beside the garage door to the driveway. He had left it there earlier, the hose only having reached so far inside to fill it up.

Mike jogged over to the pool, and carefully pulled it over to cover the sigil so as not to spill any of the water as he did. He made sure it was positioned juuust right before letting go and looking up at Djali.

“Lay her down in here,” he said, then motioned to the metal rack that was drilled into the wall. He figured the previous owners had used it for gardening tools or a bike. “And- I don’t know, you think we keep her handcuffs as is, or put them around that?” 

DJALI

Djali did as instructed, carefully lowering Sarina down into the cold, cold water of the kiddie pool. Again--sorry. 

He stepped out of the sigil as soon as possible, shaking his head as Mike as he found himself standing side-by-side.

“She will blast rack right off of wall if given chance, at least in water her initial energy blasts will be dampened.” Not for long, mind you, but hopefully for long enough for them to get this whole thing done. Time was ticking. The stakes were high. Djali already had nervous sweat pooling on his brow.  

“Let’s just--does she have to be awake for us to start or can we get this show on road?” 

MIKE 

“No,” he replied, turning away from the sight of his friend sitting in a kiddie pool, handcuffed. 

What the fuck even was his life anymore?

“But I have no doubts that they’ll wake up through it. It’s not going to be…pleasant,” Mike said and then winced, thinking about all the videos he’d seen. All the exorcisms he had read about, listened to through taped recordings. “We’re basically evicting the Demon out of her, and since they’ve been in there for a while, it won’t be easy, either.” 

He piled several candles that he sitting on the table into his arms, and then walked back over to Djali, indicating for him to take them. “Start setting these around the pool. Preferably out of splash zone range.” 

DJALI

He took an armful of candles from Mike, relieving him of his seemingly endless supply. Whether or not Mike just had all of them lying or around, or  if he’d needed to go out and buy fifteen-some candles was unclear to Djali. The details hadn’t ever been hashed out--and who really knew what a demonologist might keep in their house. That’s what Mike was, a demonologist. Sarina’s squatter had picked the worst possible person to worry.

Besides Djali himself, of course, who placed candles down with the ferocity of the world’ most competitive cup stacker. Time of the essence, high stakes, a friend to save. 

And it wouldn’t be easy. Djali kept reminding himself of that. 

“How long will it take, do you think? Is this going to be late-night endeavour? Should I order pizza?” He glanced up, read the room, set down another candle. “I kid.” 

MIKE

As Djali worked Mike went back over to the table to grab the lighter, because he was too paranoid and shaky to use matches. He followed behind, setting the wicks aflame until the circle was complete. Not paying attention to the eerie glow the fire put over their friend or the walls of his garage, he trotted back over to exchange the lighter for the rest of their supplies.

Despite the situation, Mike laughed. It wasn’t loud or boisterous, just a huff of amused air. It’s what he used to do with Winston and Grace, try to crack a joke at the height of tension in order to break it up before it could get too thick and choke everyone in the room. 

“It depends,” he said, making his way to stand beside Djali. He offered him a bottle of Holy Water, brought to you by the local church. “If we can get Sarina to fight back as I’m saying the incantation, it’ll make the process go faster. So, when the Demon wakes up, and it will wake up, make sure to encourage her. And use the Holy Water. I know it’ll seem like you’re hurting her, but that’s just the Demon in her, okay? Just…don’t listen to anything they say. They’ll probably try anything to stay but you just have to remember that getting them out will be better in the long run than anything that happens during the exorcism.” 

He opened the book he had tucked under his arm to the page he had marked, sticky notes riddling the pages from where he had slaved over trying to translate. Since Sarina was Italian, he knew it was a safe bet to get the exorcism ritual in her first language. He took a slow breath and then cleared his throat, straightening his spine to stand as tall as he possibly could.

“Chiamo l'araldo delle emozioni. Chiamo colui che è qui senza permesso,” he started, glancing up at Sarina as he forced himself to concentrate on what he was saying despite his broken attempt to speak it. He had practiced, sure, but it wasn’t as if he was fluent. He blinked, bringing the book closer to keep himself from looking up any more. He needed to mean these words, not just be reciting them off a page. For once his overwhelming emotions could be of some use, the want for Sarina to come back, for this Demon to let her go, the need for his friend to make it out of this and the desire to help her were all present, washing over him like waves trying to pull him out to sea. Only this time, he let them.

“Rimuovo il tuo potere e la forza sugli innocenti. Vi esorcizzo, riportando pace e tranquillità al corpo da cui avete rubato. Lasciate questo corpo e tornate a quello della vostra forma originale. Lascia questo aereo e torna a quello da cui sei originario. Non sei voluto qui. Non appartieni a questo posto. Non hai il permesso di restare. Rinuncio a te, demone delle emozioni, come tuo avversario. Lascia subito questo corpo.”

SARINA

There was a ponding in Jelly’s mind when she started to wake up the freezing water, the warmth from the candles registered and Jelly yanked herself into a sitting position or at least she tried to as she yanked on her hands and slipped in the damn kiddie pool she was put in.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She screamed attempting to light up her hands but it steamed the water and burned at the plastic melting it to the ground from the heat. Burning her hands as the water bubbled.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” She screamed looking at Mike and that damn book. “I knew I should have just off’ed you the moment I saw your scrawny little ass.” Jelly spat out kicking at the damn kiddie pool’s edge water splashing up and over, soaking the ground.

Turning wild eyes onto the man with horns Sarina grinned. “You’re not getting her back. You get rid of me you get rid of her.”

DJALI

Djali felt… Surprisingly calm for the gravity of the scene in front of him. 

He’d thought maybe this would be different. In the rush of a crowd, you could find a common breath. Chanting, in and out, running, in and out, cheering, in and out. Djali could lose himself in a crowd faster than anyone else he knew and re-emerge in four hours time, having felt like not even five minutes had passed. That’s why he was always the last one in the square. 

The candles flickered, in and out, the water bottle crumpled in his hand, in and out, Mike chanted, in and out, Sarina blinked her eyes open, in and out and in and out and in. He raised the bottle over his head puncturing the cap with the tip of his horn. Holy water leaked down onto his head, and immediately he veered it around, squeezing the bottle to direct the spray at his friend. 

Sorry. 

“You have clearly never met Sarina if you think that is true. You cannot kick her out of home. I know she is in there.” 

MIKE

He clutched onto the book at the sound of Sarina’s voice, continuing the incantation, if only a little louder over her choice insults.

Scrawny ass? Was he really that-?

Not the point, Wazowski, so not the point.  

When he had finished, he didn’t look at Sarina or Djali, couldn’t hear what words were passing between them as he moved back over to the table where the rest of his supplies were. He placed the book down, open faced, and moved with such precision he almost felt like he was on autopilot. Having studied exorcisms ever since he had gotten himself a library card it was like this had just been sitting inside of him, waiting to be executed.

The book had told him that his ritual in particular would need some kind of powerful goblet or chalice. But he knew that was bullshit, learning time and time again that Italian priests liked to gussie up their rituals in textbooks to look like they were above the rest, making everyone think they needed someone with a title to perform something like this. Mike knew that any container could be used, so he picked up the red solo cup he had put out here earlier.

He had thought Sarina might have been amused by the symbolism. Or she would never let him live it down. 

Mike poured the salt into the cup, because contrary to what the television shows that didn’t do thorough research, salt did nothing to contain so much as it was used to cleanse. It was followed by oil, stolen from the department, sorry PrideU, and then, as the book had asked, an object that held positive emotion.

He picked up his choice carefully. It had been the gift his grandmother had gotten for him when he had graduated from High School, a plate. It was ceramic and drawn on, she had painted it and gotten it glazed herself, and he had carried around with him from the dorms, from one apartment to the next, and it had made the journey across the Atlantic. It was small, too small to eat a meal off of, it had always been what he put his keys on when he walked into his place of residence.

It was one of his most valued possessions. It held fond memories of her, that she had cared about him enough to make him something so personal, it had meant the world to him. It provided a piece of home when he was so far away.

But he needed Sarina. 

He snapped it in half between his hands, letting the two halves fall into the cup. As soon as they touched the water he read from the book, “Chiamo l'araldo delle emozioni, prendete questa offerta e tornate al vostro aereo. Lasciate questo corpo. Non siete i benvenuti qui. Aprire il portale e tornare indietro. Lasciate questo corpo.”

He repeated the last sentence over and over again, the need to continue chanting the words preventing him from swallowing. The flames on the candles whipped in a wind Mike couldn’t feel. His eyes were focused on the cup, waiting, waiting, until it began to boil, froth forming over the top until it spilled over. Mike didn’t hesitate in picking it up, carrying it over to the kiddie pool and pouring the contents over her. The two halves of the plate were nowhere to be seen, having turned to dust in the reaction. 

SARINA

Jelly screamed at the two boys, loud and piercing scream. The holy water that touched the girl’s body seared and burned at her skin. The water continued to bubble and Sarina’s own powers burned at the clothing on her back licking at her skin as her powers gained more traction as the water warmed and splashed out of the pool. The cuffs heated up creating burns on her wrists as the heated metal rested against her skin.

She kicked at the stupid kiddie pool aiming to eventually lunge at either man. 

“You’re not the one in her head. She won’t be back.” Jelly threatened. “I heard everything she thinks. I know everything about her. Did you know how quickly she gave up? Do you know how lonely she is? Do you know how much she wished it was her dead? Do you know how she used you both to get whatever she needed? Do you know how little she actually cares for you?” Jelly taunted. “She hates you both. Djali you’re a pathetic loser who does nothing but get into people’s business who don’t want you there. Mike is just an annoyance who can’t do anything right.”

Even as the water made her feel weaker and weaker Jelly twisted herself onto her knees. They better have a good story because she was about to torture them in the best ways a demon knew how to. 

The flames rose with her blowing in the wind. Djali was the first threat and the easiest one to get to. Once that damn holy water wasn’t spraying on her any longer she planned to spin on Mike and get her hand around his throat. (She hadn’t gotten out of the cuffs yet but she would).

As the solo cup of liquid poured over her Jelly screamed again her body shuddering as the liquid seeped into her skin, into her soul. It burned her and barely seared the skin. Sarina’s green flames sputtered and died down as Jelly started to convulse falling back into the pool shuddered as black shadows seeped out of Sarina’s skin twisting into it’s own form gravity pulling her toward the ground. 

Glowing yellow eyes appearing for a moment though the form wavered. As it was Jelly wasn’t a high level demon she couldn’t stay in her own form here for long. Not without a host and neither any of the bodies around her were suitable hosts. 

And slowly her soul was dragged further and further down. The Gates of the Underworld were so close and the ambassador of hell…. It wasn’t something Jelly could fight as her own soul was ripped from the garage they were in. The flames ripped away with her leaving a ringing silence and Sarina’s body laying there in the charred kiddie pool.

Her breathing was heavy but her eyes were closed and there was no movement from her either.

MIKE

The Demon was forced out into their true form and Mike could not do anything but watch in fascination, terror, relief, he didn’t know what exactly but it had his feet rooted to his spot beside the pool. He was staring at them, trying to commit what he was seeing to memory while also erasing it to allow himself to sleep at night. Yellow eyes stared at him and then they were gone and he was too busy thinking about what actually mattered.   

“Sarina,” he said, and he had to say it again because his voice was raw with it. Raw like it was all he’d ever said.  He didn’t know how hot the water was, the green light from her magic having flickered out finally, but it didn’t matter, he was just moving, because if he stopped then he would collapse onto the unforgiving concrete floor.

It was crazy, he had no idea if she would wake up and try to attack him, if the water would burn his skin, if the Demon had somehow put on an elaborate show for him to believe they had fled but were waiting on him to get closer now that he thought they were in the clear. He stepped over the edge of the pool, his sneakers and pants getting soaked.

He said it again. The name, and he splashed water everywhere as he sunk down to his knees. Sarina was on her side and she wasn’t moving and Mike pulled her onto her back, struggling to get air into his chest that felt too tight to let in anything at all. His fingers curled against the curve of her neck, sliding his hand into her hair as he pressed his other hand to her cheek.  God, she wasn’t moving, and Mike was beginning to realize how much he depended on Sarina to move. To breathe.

Fuck. Breathing, was she breathing?

“Please, Sarina, please,” he pleaded, “I can’t-“

Mike placed two shaky fingers under her jaw to find her pulse but his was so fucking loud, overpowering anything else and he can’t be sure. He leaned forward until her breath brushed his cheek, allowing him to pull back and look over her face. There was still no answer and he was suffocating on the silence. All at once, the pool, the water, the garage, was too uncomfortable for Sarina to be lying in. And Mike was overwhelmed with the idea of Sarina Go lying in a kiddie pool in his garage and that’s probably because in that moment before he had exorcised the Demon he had been picturing her in some kind of facility, trapped there forever with a Demon inside of her, and, fuck, he was going to vomit.

He scrambled, getting the key to the handcuffs from his pocket and he knew it was a stupid move but he did it anyways. The metal burnt him when he first touched it, making him flinch back with a curse. He went back to it, movements jerky and quick to unlock the cuffs from around her wrists. Tossing them to the side he shoved a hand under her knees, lifting her with only a small slip on the slick bottom of the pool, and he didn’t know where he was going until he was inside the spare bedroom just down the hall from the door leading to the garage, setting her on the bed.

There was an ache when Sarina fell away from his chest, but it was brief and so fucking stupid, so he dismissed it as best he could. He stood there, hovering, waiting to apologize for letting this happen to her, for not noticing sooner. Waiting, waiting, waiting. 

SARINA

When Sarina came to it was sudden and violent. She felt like she was drowning. Gasping when her eyes popped open Sarina flung forward slamming into Mike. The girl barely registered the pain, well she registered it but the fact was that she felt it and the sensation of it alone sent Sarina into tears.

Her hands flung out grabbing Mike’s shirt pulling him closer to her as she gasped for air holding onto him as tightly as she had the energy for. 

Sarina basically wailed out his name as she struggled to breathe her hands shaking against his chest.

Every sound at the moment felt louder than before. Each touch, each bit of sunlight that touched her skin felt like it was burning her. She hadn’t felt anything since that thing took over her body. She was just a thought. She wasn’t anything.

And here she was everything again.

It was both everything she needed and too much.

“Don’t let go- please.” She begged.

MIKE

Sarina woke up and color seeped back into the world.

She slammed into him so hard that the only way that he could respond was to wrap his and around her waist and hold her there.  She said his name like it was painful to get out. He could feel the way her hands trembled, the sound of her harsh intake of breath almost enough to get him started on hyperventilating, too, because fuck. Fuck, what was he supposed to do here?

He couldn’t freak out because Sarina, and he knew this had to be Sarina since she wasn’t trying to kill him, had just had a Demon forced out of her body kicking and screaming.  And he couldn’t be the one to fall apart because this was his fault. Sarina was in pain and it was his fault.

Belatedly he realized, as she clung to him with her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, that she was trying to drown out the pain with touch.  It cut through him like a knife, making him go rigid. He had no idea where to touch, where to keep from making it worse.

She gave him permission not long after and he couldn’t keep himself from it, tugging her to him, squeezing around her shoulders. Mike was careful, delicate, and she fit against him in ways that were both familiar and foreign that he couldn’t stop to think about it. He sighed, lips brushing against her hair, and she smelled like sweat and hose water and his stupid dust coated garage. It was terrible, but it was all he had.

“I got you,” he said, and pressed his lips into her hair and said it again, “I got you. I-I’m sorry, Sarina, I’m so sorry.”  

SARINA

Tears were streaming down Sarina's cheeks and soaking Mike's shirt but the girl couldnt find it in herself to care about a little detail like that. Instead her focus was on the fact she could feel Mike holding onto her. She could feel his touch.

Everywhere he touched she could feel it. 

She could feel the burns on her wrists and the ache in her shoulders.

Hiccuping when the tears started to slow down Sarina shook her head though she didnt move from where she was. She needed something to prove that she was real. She needed Mike's touch. 

He was warm. He was soft. He was everything she had been craving in the hellhole of her mind that last however long it was. And Sarina didnt know what to do with that information now that she had to.

"Is it over? Is she gone?" Sarina instead mumbled out not letting Mike pull away even if he would try.

MIKE

He brought his other arm up, the one that wasn’t like a bar across the width of Sarina’s shoulders, to cup the back of her head and stroke her hair. Because that was a thing he did now, like it came natural to him to know what he needed to do to for her. 

Is it over? she asked and it ruined him to hear her voice like that, like it was charged up with drops of rain. He left his lips where they were and it only vaguely occurred to him that he was sort of kissing her head but his vision had started to blur because he didn’t know what to do with this, with all the sounds and touches, and all he is are exposed lines that were pressed so tightly into her that he couldn’t hide them even if he tried. If she couldn’t see them then she could feel them, all the jagged edges and broken parts that he had been keeping inside.

“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

And he couldn’t let go because touching her, feeling the warmth, to know she was okay, it was the only thing allowing him to keep it all together. The only thing keeping him from becoming scattered shards of glass across the floor. Sarina felt so good against his chest, solid and breathing and there, and Mike let himself believe that she was going to be fine. That he wasn’t going to lose his grip on Sarina ever again.

“Yeah. Yeah, they’re gone,” he said under the strain in his voice.  Mike allowed the moment to breathe a little while longer before he couldn’t handle it anymore. “What can I do? Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help. Anything. Please.”  

SARINA

Sarina didn’t recognize the apologies that were slipping through Mike’s lips like prayers to whatever higher force was between them. She couldn’t recognize that anything warranted an apology.  Especially from Mike of all people.

Only the words that she had asked for reached her lips and Sarina held onto those as her own little mantra. It was gone. After all that time it was gone and Sarina was herself again. She didn’t quite feel like herself though. 

Sarina felt empty and she didn’t know what she could use to fill that space. Was it someone’s else touch? Was it the drugs that drove the demon mad that would fill that ripped space in her chest.

Would that make her whole again?

If it was anyone else holding her Sarina would have reached up desperately to prove or disprove one of those options at the very least. Bringing their lips to hers, them on top of her and let them have their way with her. Sarina wouldn’t even play at wanting to be in control. She wanted someone to take it and just force her to feel.

This was Mike though and the pressure of his arms would have to be enough. In the haze of her mind she knew if he pulled away that space would rip further apart. Destroying her then and there.

“Stay with me.” Sarina instead murmured her words muffled from his shirt. “Just stay with me and don’t let me go.” She needed this pressure. She need the pleasure of him holding her along with the pain of waking up in a body that had fought as hard as possible to keep the demon.

Sarina needed him.

MIKE

He had known that she was a person who gave more touches than most. Pats to his chest, hugging him when he was having a mental breakdown, flipping him onto the concrete of her high class neighborhood. This, he realized with a jolt, was different and how they didn’t really touch like this ever since that dream. Deep down he knew, with no doubt, that she would be saying the same thing to anyone else and that he just happened to be the one there to hear it.

It was penance for having not noticed sooner. For having waited so long to do something for her. And he knew that when the pain stopped, when she came back to herself, that things would go right back to normal. When he wasn’t the one to be here, like this, for her. He knew this wasn’t the time or the place, but he let himself have it, just for a second, because Sarina needed it.

“I can do that,” his voice cracked. “Okay, yeah, I-I can do that.”

Careful of everything he was doing, Mike moved his hand from her hair to place it around her thigh and lower her back onto the bed. Even though there was this voice inside his head warning him against it, he followed in after her. Placing a knee on the mattress until he could lay down beside her, pulling her back into his chest so tightly that the line between them blurred.

And they were both still wet, Sarina more so than him, from the pool. The denim of his jeans stuck to his skin, his shoes and socks still soaking and on his feet that will be uncomfortable for hours. She probably felt the same way, and maybe when the initial shock of this thing passed he would get her a towel and a change of clothes, offer up his shower, but she hadn’t asked for any of that. She had asked for him, and he wasn’t going to fail her again so soon. 

SARINA

Sarina moved without question with Mike. She let him move her however he saw fit. Her full trust was with him. He could use or abuse it and Sarina would let him.

She didn't care. It was bad and she knew it that she was willing to just fall so completely into someone but she didnt care. 

Let her just be. Let her feel the pain. Let her feel.

Maybe then she would trust that she was actually alive.

But right now she was exhausted and she needed Mike. Curled into the bed she could feel that fuzziness in her head even if she didnt want to sleep. She wanted to be awake.

"Thank you for saving me." Sarina instead murmured forcing herself to stay awake.

MIKE

He had never felt so much shame in his life until that moment, didn’t think it possible, wrapped around Sarina while she thanked him, fucking thanked him for doing something that should have happened weeks ago, hell, that shouldn’t have had to happen at all had he been half the Demonologist he wanted to be.

It felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest, and he squeezed his eyes shut to curl his fingers in a little tighter around the fabric of her shirt. The pain rushing through him like water from a broken sprinkler.

“Don’t say that.” It was his fault, but he didn’t want to make it a thing. She wasn’t in her right of mind for him to, so instead he just said, “Thanks for coming back to me.” 

SARINA

Sarina was fighting the sleep that threatened her. In the safety of Mike's arms though it wasnt something she could fight long.

Even as the words left her lips to thank him she was drifting. Her grip loosening as he thanked her. Words lost on her hazy mind.

"Dont leave." She instead begged. Her words slurred as she drifted into an uneasy sleep.