#there's less red tape over there

[faytelumos]

Know Thy Enemy pt2

This is so long, oh my gosh, it's 4.7k words and I still felt like I was cutting it down a lot.

@those-damn-snippets

allergens: tactless references to sex

cw: car accident (mild), medical emergency, presence of alcohol

previous

---

The doorbell rang at two on the dot. Hero stood, wiping her clammy palms on her leggings. This was recon. This was recon. If anyone from the agency asked, she would tell them the opportunity presented itself and it was in everyone's best interest for her to take it. She straightened her knee-length pleated skirt, she adjusted her blouse, and she opened the door.

Villain smiled at her, his hair coiffed back. He was wearing slacks and a nice sweater, and he had a simple bouquet of pink and yellow flowers. She gaped at them.

"Oh, I, I didn't know you were bringing flowers," she blurted. His smile turned lop-sided.

"What kind of date would I be if I didn't bring flowers?" Ahk, there was that word again—

"Er, let me…." Hero didn't finish her sentence, just taking the flowers from him and walking into her kitchen. She didn't own any vases, but she had a small set of tall drinking glasses that would probably work. What kind of date brought flowers with no vase, she might ask?

Once the flowers were set with cold water, she put them in the middle of the table. They'd be good there for now. She turned around to find Villain crouched down beside her TV, riffling through her book collection.

She'd never been so mortified to own romcom novels as she suddenly was right now in this moment. He pulled a book out and thumbed across all of the pages in two seconds, then turned the book around to read the back. He was right about to get to her favorites section, and she didn't feel like dying of the embarrassment.

"We should get going," she blurted. She could fry an egg on her face right now. She suddenly wished she'd picked a more open top; it was too hot in here. Villain looked up at her, then made a little sound and put the book back before standing. He was all smiles again.

"Right this way, my dear."

Villain drove her into a more run-down part of town. She was expecting an out-of-the-way restaurant, some kind of hole-in-the-wall hangout that only people in that neighborhood would have heard of.

She definitely wasn't expecting a room of a dozen kids screaming excitedly upon Villain's arrival.

Hero watched like a deer in headlights as Villain was crowded by shrill screams and little hugs. He lit up around them, hugging as many of them at once as he could.

"Everyone, I brought my new girlfriend —"

"Girlfr—?!"

"—This is Ro!"

The room echoed with an unharmonious cry of, "Hi, Ro!" and it scared the hell out of her for just a moment. But there was no recognition in these children's eyes.

"Ro's gonna help us with today's science project," Villain announced, turning the last words into a conspiratory kind of stage whisper. Once again the kids screamed excitedly, but this time, they all ran to the various little tables in the room. Villain reached out and froze one of the kids in place, making Hero's heart stop. What was he doing? They were just a kid!

Hero was just about to start yelling at him when the kid unfroze and spun around, giggling and jumping excitedly. Villain crouched down and motioned for the little kid to come forward with a finger.

"Now, Milly," Villain whispered, looking around suspiciously.

"Yeah?" the kid replied, nodding his head excitedly.

"I have a special assignment for you," Villain whispered as he reached up and grabbed Hero's hand. She flinched, looking down at where he was touching her. She wasn't used to feeling his skin; his powers nullified all sense of touch. His hand was slightly rough, like a half-formed callous, and his skin was cool to the touch. He pulled down on her wrist, and she hesitantly crouched down next to him. "My girlfriend, here," Villain explained and Hero bit her tongue for now, "doesn't know how to build a circuit." How did he know that? What if she did? Her training could have included electrics.

It didn't. …But it could have.

"I need you to bring her up to speed on your project," Villain finished, smiling his charming, movie star smile. Milly looked to Hero suspiciously. Hero looked back, raising an eyebrow. He raised one right back at an impressive angle. He crossed his arms, and she did the same.

"Okay, over here," Milly said slowly, getting up and going to a table. Hero glanced at Villain as he continued to smile. He gave her a little wave, then turned and walked to a different table.

Milly apparently knew all about circuits. Unfortunately, Hero didn't know the first thing. He started explaining things three levels above her head and she struggled to keep up. She asked questions and had him clarify as he worked, but she was drowning. She wouldn't come out of the situation knowing anything more than she had entered with.

But Milly didn't mind at all. As he talked more, he became absolutely aglow with excitement, and he answered all of Hero's questions animatedly and eagerly. Once he started smiling, he didn't stop. And it made Hero smile, too.

Before they knew it, an hour and a half had passed.

"Alright, kiddos!" Villain cried, clapping his hands together. "Ro and I have to go!" He smiled at his own silly rhyme and several of the kids shared their disappointment. Surprisingly tough crowd. Hero looked to Milly, and he looked at her hopefully.

"Are you gonna come back?" he asked. His brown eyes were melting Hero's heart.

"I don't know, kiddo," she uttered. "Maybe. I liked spending time with you."

"Me, too!" He beamed, and she smiled right back. Hero's attention was drawn to the bulk of the kids as they started chanting, "Up! Up! Up!" and then Milly raced over to be with them. Villain's smile became mischievous, and he crouched down as if ready to pounce.

"Alright, just once!" The kids screamed and all crouched down, too. Hero leaned back, crossing her arms and observing.

"Okay, one…" The kids crouched deeper, quieting down except for excited giggles. "Two…!" Villain got lower, giving everyone a crazed grin, wiggling his fingers like some old-timey cowboy in a tense shoot-off. The kids waited an extra beat, one of them flinched partially upright, and then— "Three!"

All of the kids jumped as high as they could as Villain sprang to his feet, flinging his hands skyward like some kind of mad scientist. The kids suddenly all stopped, hovering in the air even as they flapped their arms and kicked their legs.

"Higher!" one cried, trying to fly. Another groaned, long and strained as they kicked and reached as if to climb. A third was desperately trying to swim upwards.

Hero put a hand over her mouth, giggles rolling up her throat as Villain gasped and strained, acting for all the world like he was trying to hold something massively heavy in his hands. He lowered them to his shoulders, then leaned back and grunted, holding his invisible burden at his belly. The kids protested, and Hero finally noticed they were slowly slipping back down to the ground. More and more protests filled the room as Villain fell to a knee, then heroically hiked his burden once more to his shoulders. But it was too much, and he started to collapse. Hero couldn't help the full-on laughter that shook her when he plopped belly-down onto the floor, all of the kids falling and yelling and then running up to jostle him upright, chanting for another go. He got to his feet as if exhausted.

"No more," he panted. "No more."

"Again! Again! Again!" Hero grinned, climbing to her feet, rushing over and joining the others. Villain looked at her with… something fond. She didn't want to think about it too hard.

"Okay, okay, one more time."

He did it four times all told.

Hero waved out of the car window as she and Villain backed away from the shabby little school. Parents had begun arriving, and most of the kids waved back as they walked to another car in the parking lot.

"You were really good with Milly," Villain uttered softly as he turned the wheel. Hero looked over to him.

"Oh." She looked down at her hands. "Yeah. He's a sweet kid."

"He is," Villain agreed. He pulled slowly away from the parking spot. "He doesn't usually like adults."

Hero glanced over at Villain, but his eyes were on the little road to the parking lot entrance. She'd gotten the feeling that Milly was distrustful of her at first. And she didn't blame him — she was a stranger, after all. But the way Villain said, "He doesn't usually like adults," seemed a bit… loaded. Had something happened? She wasn't sure she'd want to know. But part of her burned to know that sweet little boy wasn't being hurt.

"Why not?" she whispered. Villain glanced over to her, slowing to a stop to pull onto the street, and he gave her a lopsided, dorky smile.

"Most people get petty when they realize he's smarter than they are."

Hero stared at him. There was a muscle in her head that instantly pulled the, "How dare you!" switch in her brain. But also, Milly had been much more knowledgable than her on their topic for the day.

And why the hell should that be a bad thing?

She shrugged. "Their loss. He's a great kid." Villain beamed brightly at her before looking back to the road and pulling smoothly into traffic.

"I knew you'd get along," he said, almost to himself. For some reason, that made Hero blush, and she looked back down to her hands.

Their next stop was a "friend's" house. Hero stopped as soon as the words left Villain's mouth, one foot still in the car, the other on the sidewalk.

"Wait," Hero blurted, "this isn't… Supervillain's house, is it?" Villain barked an incredulous laugh, turning around on the walkway to face her.

"No?" he said, the expensive-looking, two story house looming behind him. "I would never willingly spend time with that square."

This time, Hero barked a laugh. Villain grinned brightly in his movie star way, then motioned for her to follow and continued to the door.

He didn't knock, he just walked right in. "Oh, Misses Norris!" he sang loudly into the entryway, leaving the door wide open for Hero to walk in. She closed it behind them. "Yoohoo!"

"I'm in here!" came a cranky reply. Villain strode off to the right with a little skip in his step, and Hero followed close behind. They came into a pretty living room — all of the walls and carpet and tabletops were white, and the chairs and flowers were all dark blue. A little, old woman was sitting opposite a large TV, knitting something, and the look she threw Villain as he walked in with wide arms was distinctly annoyed.

But the look she threw Hero was downright dangerous.

"Who's 'at?" Misses Norris demanded, shooting Villain a suspicious look.

"Who?" he said too dismissively to be innocent. He looked up and around and then at Hero as if he hadn't been sure she was even in the room. "Oh, Ro?" he said, looking down and waving dismissively at Misses Norris. He was wearing that movie star smile again. "She's just my friend. Had nothing better to do today."

Hero could have scoffed. But Misses Norris was making her too nervous, so she just waved shyly. The old lady looked her over with sharp, judgmental eyes.

"What do you do for a living, Ro?" Norris demanded.

"I'm a civil servant," Hero replied instantly. Norris scoffed, then looked down to resume her knitting. Something about it made Hero shrivel a little.

"So you're a government slave?"

"N-no—"

"Basically," Villain interrupted. Hero looked at him, betrayed and uneasy, and he patted Norris on the shoulder. "I was hoping to get her to change her career to hospice care."

Hero almost choked.

"I'm not dying yet, you little shit!" Norris barked, and Villain tried to dance out of the way but still got a punishing smack on the ass. Hero put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Villain was laughing.

"Ro, would you mind making us some turkey sandwiches?" Villain asked, all smiles as he put a hand once more on Norris' shoulder. Hero just nodded, glad for the excuse to leave Misses Norris' sight.

Thankfully, the kitchen wasn't very hard to find. It was big and clean, and Hero got the distinct impression this was far too much house for Norris to keep up on her own. Either way, the fridge was tidy and the kitchen well-organized, and Hero set about using the blessedly narrow range of options to put together three sandwiches. She was just putting the last one together when she nearly had a heart attack.

"Are you trying to get into Villy's pants?"

Hero jumped and almost didn't catch the butter knife, then put a hand on her chest. She looked to Misses Norris, panting. Norris didn't seem the least bit remorseful, just raised her eyebrows from the kitchen entrance as if to say, "Answer the damn question."

"I think it's kind of the other way around," Hero blurted. Norris snorted.

"Villy? Nah. He wouldn't know what to do with a woman if she was spread out in front of him."

Holy shit, this woman had no filter.

"Uh—" Hero looked down at the sandwiches, then the knife in her hand. "Well, I-I promise I'm not trying to seduce him." She rinsed the knife off in the sink, but she could still feel Norris' eyes on her back.

"Good," she grunted. "Because he's a good boy, and he doesn't need to be pulled around by some harlot."

Hero paused. Then she turned off the water. She didn't turn to Norris, not yet. She wanted to make really sure she had heard that correctly.

On the one hand, this lady was being very rude. Downright mean. Hero hadn't asked to come into this house, but she was being set upon. And where the hell was Villain right now? Hero hadn't done anything to this lady except make her a sandwich.

On the other hand, this woman was just about the right age to have chronic, low-grade lead poisoning. Irritability and difficulty opening up to new ideas were some of the most common symptoms.

Hero turned her head. If she thought about it, Norris was just worried about Villain. Thinking about it twice, Norris had probably walked in here to give her a shovel talk. So what did Norris want to hear? Would she believe it if Hero said she wasn't interested? Would she be put off if Hero tried to act sweetly?

People give the kind of love they want to receive. And Norris had cursed at Villain and smacked him before coming in here to threaten Hero should she hurt him.

"You're right," Hero said, turning and leaning back against the sink, crossing her arms. Her heart was pounding like she was walking into a fight. "He deserves to be taken care of." Hero looked straight into Norris' eyes. "And if he's being mistreated, I will do something about it."

Norris waited a moment, then narrowed her eyes at Hero. Hero held eye contact, the butter knife glinting in her hand. Norris turned her head, parting her lips as if to speak, then paused again.

"Are you… threatening me?" Norris challenged. Hero gave her best impression of a nonchalant shrug.

"Are you hurting him?"

"Of course not!" Norris barked.

"Well then, there you go."

Norris stared at Hero, but it wasn't a glare anymore. Hero tried not to grit her teeth too hard, but nervous energy was welling up in her throat like it was dammed. Norris gave Hero another once-over, more assessing now than judgmental.

Norris looked Hero in the eye, then turned and left. Hero counted to ten before sighing in relief and putting a hand to her forehead.

Norris kept watching Hero while they all ate lunch. She sat close to Villain, fussing about the way he ate and then trying to bait him into saying how much he needed her around. Hero would have been put off by such behavior normally, but there was something… playful about it. Like Norris was just trying to get him to say something he'd sworn not to so she could laugh and call him out on it. But Villain was too smart for that sort of thing, and he cleverly dodged her verbal strikes.

Hero watched Villain as he smiled at Misses Norris and pulled the crust off of his sandwich. He smiled a lot, she was noticing. She'd seen it in the field, but it was always his movie star smile or his wry smirk. She liked the goofy smile. It… made him really handsome.

She carefully raised her sandwich and took a bite.

By the time they left Norris' house, it was getting dark. Villain kissed her on the crown of her head before stepping off of the porch.

"Come back before Hell freezes over, would ya?" Norris called as Hero and Villain walked to the car. Villain laughed and called over his shoulder:

"I'll see what I can pencil in!"

Hero hid her smile, and they climbed in. Villain let out a long sigh. He looked a little drained, and Hero picked the first joke that came to mind.

"Taking me to see your mom on a first date?" she ventured warily, buckling her seatbelt. Villain barked a laugh.

"Think of Misses Norris more like…." He put a tongue into his cheek and rolled his head thoughtfully. "A long-lost lover."

Hero balked for a moment. Norris was… delicate. She moved slowly and her right hand trembled and not all of her fingers were straight. Hero suddenly couldn't help but wonder if Norris and Villain were still… active. Oh, God, suddenly she was picturing Villain naked!

Stop! Stop, oh, jeez!

Villain laughed at her as she put her hands on her face. How did he make her so nervous? Nobody else in her life had this effect on her.

"If she's your lover, you're obviously not doing a good job," Hero moaned as if the words were being dragged out of her. Villain's laughing stuttered to a stop.

"What?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"She's so cranky!" Hero cried, looking to Villain with probably the loudest blush she'd ever worn in her life. Villain howled with laughter, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to the steering wheel, and Hero covered her face again to hide her own laughter.

The next stop was supposed to be the last. They went back into town, and Hero admired the lights as Villain drove. The sky was still darkening, but all of the signs and street lamps were on and ready for the night.

Villain pulled into what was apparently a popular restaurant. The parking lot was pretty full, so they took a spot further away from the building.

Hero was getting nervous again. It hit her again that she was on a date. With Villain. This was definitely going into her file. What even was the punishment for dating the enemy? She didn't want to lose this job. She wanted to be where she could help people. And there wasn't exactly a surplus of hero agencies around.

"What's on your mind?" Villain asked. Hero looked up to see him watching her face. His expression was so soft. She admired the gentle part of his lips for a moment before looking down.

"I just… don't want to get in trouble," she admitted. It sounded stupid to say out loud. Like she was twelve years old and worried her parents would ground her. Villain took a deep breath and looked to the building as they continued towards it.

"I really meant it when I said you're too good for them," he uttered. Hero played with her hands. He didn't get it. Most villains were basically freelancers, and there was no central body for them to answer to. They didn't need to be organized to do what they wanted. But Hero did. She couldn't get situation reports on unfolding trouble from a news channel. She couldn't get from one end of town to the other in ten minutes in her own car.

Villain bumped her elbow softly.

"Why do you work for them?" he asked. She sighed and examined the lines on her palms.

"I don't know how else to help people," she whispered. There was nothing else for a hero to do except sign onto the agency.

Although, it wasn't exactly like she was a good hero.

"You helped Milly," Villain offered. Hero blinked. She… supposed. Milly did look happy, at least. And he'd asked if she was coming back. "And Misses Norris sure liked you," Villain went on. "I figured she would; you're whip-smart."

There it was again. Hero frowned, looking away. She really wished he'd stop —

An old sedan jumped the curb next to them, headlights gnashing, engine roaring.

They couldn't get out of the way in time.

"Look out!" Hero screamed, grabbing Villain.

The car struck Hero's outstretched palm, metal twisting as she adjusted her stance to let the car continue across her right side in a tight arc. She twisted, holding onto the grill as something broke, letting the car turn until it was on Hero's other side, facing the sidewalk it had just screamed over, bouncing on its wheels as the radiator bled onto the pavement.

Hero panted, shaking, staring with wide eyes at the now motionless car. The grill was practically ripped apart and one of the front wheels was twisted. She'd probably totaled it.

She looked back at her other hand where she was holding onto Villain by the shirt. She had his sweater balled up in her fist, and he was holding onto her wrist with both hands, eyes wide. He was trembling all over, breathing shallowly. He looked away from the car to Hero, and she noticed for the first time that his eyes were a dark brown.

She let go of him carefully, then dug out her phone. He was panting, and his shaking was getting worse.

"I could've died," he breathed.

"Shh, Villain, listen to me," Hero said, using her hero voice. She put a hand on his face and flashed the phone's flashlight into his eyes in a practiced motion. "You need to sit down and focus on your breathing," she commanded, noting his eyes were dilating normally. They were a rich color, like fudge, but a bit lighter towards the pupil. He turned them to her, and they dilated slightly.

"You just saved my life," he breathed. She put her phone away and didn't bother to mention that he was only here because of her.

"Sit down, focus on deep, long breaths; I have to check on the driver." Villain nodded, watching her face, and she let go of him and hurried to the car.

There was only one person inside. He looked to be older, and he was leaning hard on his right side. He turned his head slightly when Hero came to the window, and she noticed right away his expression was completely lop-sided.

She grabbed the door handle and pulled, but it didn't open. She braced her feet and grabbed with both hands, but it still wouldn't yield.

Shit, what was more expensive, the hinge or the window?

She reached over and gripped the door, pulling and crushing the metal in her hand to get access to the hinge. She forced her hand in, wincing at the loud, awful noises the metal was making, and crushed and tore the door hinge until the whole thing suddenly sagged. She gripped the door and removed it from the latch, then laid it carefully aside to avoid any further damage.

She reached in and flashed her light in the man's eyes.

"Hello, sir, do you know where you are?" she asked commandingly, careful not to move his head. His right pupil was blown and didn't respond to the light. "Sir, can you tell me your name?"

He swallowed and went to speak, but no coherent sounds came out.

Hero was already dialing emergency police.

"Sir, sit still and don't move your head, okay?" Hero commanded. He stared at her, swallowing again as the line was picked up.

Hero calmly and quickly relayed the important details of the situation to the dispatcher. She carefully pulled out the man's wallet and searched for any information about his health, monitoring him for any signs that he was getting worse.

Once the man's condition was communicated, she checked on Villain again and determined that he didn't need an ambulance. She didn't really want him on the scene when the paramedics arrived if she could help it, so she suggested he hide somewhere. He muttered something about grabbing them a table and then went inside.

It took forty five minutes to clear the scene, and all the while Hero was anxiously glancing at the restaurant. What if Villain wasn't okay? What if she missed something and he was just sitting there, going into the next stage of shock? She kept waiting to hear another ambulance, to see another set of emergency lights coming towards them. But she gave her statement to the police, and when they dismissed her, she hurried into the building and was shown to the booth where Villain was looking into a glass of wine. He looked up suddenly when she started to sit.

"I am so sorry," Hero blurted, smoothing her skirt. "Are you okay? Are you dizzy or light-headed at all?"

Villain stared at her, and it made her worry. Normally he might have smiled and tried to make a joke.

"I'm okay," he said with a slight nod. She nodded, too, leaning forward over the table. Villain looked down at his glass, swirling it softly. Then, much to Hero's relief, he cracked a smile.

"So," he uttered, looking up at her through dark lashes. She felt a slight blush warm her face, but didn't look away, the trickle of adrenalin still in her veins making her brave. "How about that second date?"

She was too shocked to laugh. He sipped his wine, one hand wrapped delicately around the glass while the other stayed flat on the table.

He really wanted to do this again? They'd barely had any time alone together all day. And she was sure the near-death experience would have warded him off of her. She realized she was expecting him to call this date off, expecting him to be mad he had to wait after nearly getting flattened, expected him to say, "You know what, I think you're just too much trouble," and leave.

She stared at him. There was no way he'd really had a good time today. He was still pale even now, and his fingers were still shaking when he wasn't hiding it.

"You… still want to go out again?" He gave her his movie star smile.

"Never stopped," he said. Hero looked down at her hands. She wasn't exactly sold on the idea of fraternizing. He was the enemy, and if the agency found out, she'd be toast.

But… she'd felt more helpful today than she had in a long time. Sure, Milly wasn't in any kind of trouble, but he was engaging, and knowing he normally couldn't do that made Hero's heart swell. Sure, Norris was cantankerous and rude, but Hero could tell she really appreciated having company. And the crash had been awful, but Hero was proud of the quick and effective way she handled the situation.

She met Villain's gaze. He was relaxing again now that she was here. Because she was here. Realizing that made her chest warm up. He wasn't a regular citizen, no, but… she was starting to finally feel wanted by spending time with him.

And maybe it was selfish of her to pick that over the moral high ground. But as she played with the roll of silverware in front of her, she decided that she maybe deserved to get something she wanted. Because it wasn't like breaking agency rules meant she couldn't help people, evidently enough.

"A second date sounds great."

[renthewerecatboi]

i just realized a good chunk of weapons people hate is because they were designed for what VALVE thought the classes should be (aka the offense, defense, and support roles) and not how people actually play them

[anglerflsh]

is the scar on your cheek just permanent now?

considering it's been months and it's still there. Probably?

[teaandinanity]

the republicans really do just say the quiet part out loud now huh

[meiieiri]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒

Now isn’t this just perfect?

Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.

A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.

Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.

“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first — either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”

Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?

“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”

It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.

He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.

He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.

Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.

“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”

You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.

“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”

“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”

That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”

“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.

The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.

You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.

You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.

He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”

You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”

Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”

“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.

Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.

You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.

Clang-dong!

“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.

Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”

“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.

Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”

“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.

Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.

Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.

“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”

He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.

“Y/N.”

Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”

You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 2

Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.

Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.

Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.

There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.

Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.

Vigilantes

Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.

Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.

---

Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.

That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks

The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.

Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"

So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.

"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.

"That place does not exist."

"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"

"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."

"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.

"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.

"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.

"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"

"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."

"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"

"Sure Tim...sure"

---

Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.

He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.

Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"

Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.

---

Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.

His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.

[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]

Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.

"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."

Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.

---

Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.

He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.

"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"

His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.

---

Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.

He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...

He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.

He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.

Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.

Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"

[sweetnans]

Pairing: Fem reader/Bakugo Katsuki. Tw: Mention of injuries. Some angst with happy ending.

You turned on the TV, lately it was the only thing that could get you out of your head after you (mostly you) and your (ex) boyfriend decided it was better to go separate ways. Gladly, you sat in awe when you watched the main character of your favorite reality show (a guilty pleasure that only Katsuki knew about). You were very attracted by the fights, the plots, the drama, and the challenges.

The male character was about to kiss his enemy, the one and only that sabotage his new cabain made of leaves and branches when the Tv went all black, then the news started.

The helicopter was flying above a big villain who was making the hell of a mess downtown. Dozens of heroes were fighting with their quirks and abilities, trying to put it down, but it seemed like the fight was just in the beginning, and that monster was the kind that need a lot of time to knock down.

"Shit" you whispered to the TV when familiar faces started to appear.

You didn't miss Kirishima's red hair. The man himself was being held by his classmate and friend Todoroki while they slid on ice. Kaminari was there too, putting his electronic devices everywhere near the villain.

Your eyes were darting all over the screen. If you could enter to it to see further, God knows you would. You were looking for him, searching all over the place, discharging everyone who didn't look like him. It was hard. Everything was happening so fast that you were missing everyone you laid your eyes on.

"Dammit, please don't be there, please don't be there..."

It was selfish and unrealistic. Even if he wasn't on duty (like you), he would've run to the scenario, that is why he chose a place near his agency, to be there when he's needed.

Emergency messages started to ring on your electronic devices, the authorities called to an immediate evacuation to the zone.

You were far away. Bakugo made sure of that when he made you look for a place near the coast rather than downtown. You told him that you would be so far from him, and he said he didn't mind taking the subway or calling for a cab.

You were lost in your thoughts when you spotted him, but suddenly the helicopter ended the transmission when it got hit by the villain, and everything went blury. In an instant, you grabbed the television in despair like if holding onto it with that strength would make everything appear again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck"

That's it, fuck the alarms, fuck the commission, you were going in.

You were aware that at least twenty heroes were there and a few more were about to arrive but you couldn't care less, you needed to see him.

You ran to your closet to find your gear when the Tv started the transmission again. You spotted him again, Deku was on his back, laid on the floor with Uravity on his hands. The cameraman zoomed, and it seemed like she was brutally injured but still breathing. Your heart started to beat so fast. He was the first in line, and you knew that his hands were starting to hurt just for the look he had on his face and the little twitch on his left eyebrow.

The back-ups started to appear one by one, some of them on foot, other through the air. Mina bathed the villain in her acid, and it made him go down on his knees. That was a huge help for the ones that couldn't fly. The sparks that you know too well appeared close to the screen. While Bakugo ignited his hands, Deku and Todoroki immobilized the Villain while Sero caged him with his tape, Creati appeared out of nothing and started tossing granades that exploded against the villain's body, penetrating through the thick layers of his skin. The villain fell right after.

Everybody cheered, they have reporters in different places along the city, recording the reaction of the people who were gathered watching the fight.

On the other hand, the heroes...

They. Were. Beated.

And you were on your knees right in front of the TV, processing everything that could've happened but didn't. Tears started to fall down your cheeks.

You hated what you were feeling. You didn't want to be that kind of person. The kind that realizes what could have lost once you can't have it anymore. He was a fucking person for God's sake and you played with him just because you were scared and now you were mourning something that didn't happened.

You wanted to be there every time he gets home all messy and full of scratches, you wanted to sooth him, to hold him and let him know that everything will be okay, you didn't want to experience anything like this again, not being all alone.

Instead of your gear, you fetched your keys and started to hyperventilate.

What would you say when you see him?

What were you going to do if he hates you?

What if it's too late?

You wanted to apologize for being a coward. You wanted to tell him that you loved him. You wanted to be his again.

You hated yourself for the time you lost with him, but you would hate yourself even more if you didn't try.

You avoided the news and social media. You knew that at least the fourth part of the heroes ended up hospitalized, but you were optimistic. Your guts told you that he was safe and sound in his place, and you wanted to believe that for his (and your) own good.

The time you spent on the cab was infinite. You have done the same path at least a hundred times, but the traffic was horrible because of what happened, and the shortcuts that the drive had to take ended up being even longer.

In an hour or so, you were on the entry of his building. You were bold enough to assume that he would go to his place instead of the agency. Didn't know if that was the most clever thing to do knowing him like you do.

The man on the entry desk greeted you like you never stopped coming, and that was like a pat on the back to keep going. You made it to the elevator even though you hated closed spaces like that and used to avoid them when you were all by yourself. But you lost an hour on the way here. You weren't wasting any more time.

The bell on his door was broken, and he didn't want to fix it because it was too annoying, his words, so you knocked, one, two, three times.

The door opened, not even a minute after the third knock, and Katsuki came into sight with a towel on his hand and his hair wet. He loved to come home after a rough day and jump to his beloved shower.

"Hi" you said, short of breath.

"Hey" He greeted like he wouldn't believe like you were there.

God. This was the first time you saw it after the breakup. First time in a month, and he looked exactly the same as the day you met him.

"I took the elevator," you explained, looking back to the metal box.

"Yeah?" He looked right above you and leaned in the door frame." It didn't seem like it"

Your chest was rising and falling fast.

"Are you going to...

"I'm sorry, I'm the most stupid person you will ever meet." You interrupted him, and he stared at you trying to figure you out like you were some kind of puzzle.

Silence. He stared at you in complete silence. It was a bad idea after all.

Everybody knows him for being this mess of a person who always says what's on his mind no matter if he's being an asshole or not, no matter if he has earned some kind of trust with you, no matter if you even met him. So, being quiet like that wasn't a good omen.

You shook your head, and your right hand went straight to cover your face. You were an idiot, but you couldn't help it. At least you tried.

Your hand didn't even get to touch your face when he wrapped around his fingers and pulled you to his chest.

The warmth that you felt was immediate.

"I fucking missed this" he said lower, just for you to hear.

"I fucking missed you" you complete while your nose scrunched against his chest. The smell and softness of his t-shirt invaded your senses. "I know I can live without you but I don't want to do it anymore"

You looked up, and he was looking down to you. His lips were firmly shaped in a line, but his crimson eyes were full of hope and happiness.

"Yeah, cut that shit, you ain't going anywhere any time soon," He whispered.

You let a laugh out and noticed the little scratches he had all over his face. He noticed how your eyebrows knitted together and showed you a grin.

"Don't ruin the moment," He warned you jokingly.

"I'm sorry, man, but I will," Kirishima emerged out of nowhere and pointed at you. "THAT was manly, not like you, Bakubro, weeping all over the agency with her number on your phone screen, but too coward to hit the button, she just crossed the entire town to say that she's sorry. SHE EVEN TOOK THE ELEVATOR! Do you know how's the traffic out there? Mina is still on the cab she took thirty minutes ago, and she was just four blocks from here.

"Shut up shitty hair, no one asked your fucking opinion" He separated from you to face his friend but never let go. His arms were still on your back, tracing patterns up and down.

"It's not an opinion. It's a fact," shouted Kaminari from the room upstairs.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[himitsusentaiblog]

I could write so much about the differences between Shin Godzilla and Godzilla Minus one as different sides of a political story.

Shin was a political satire at points about the ineffectiveness of Japanese Beauracracy in the face of immediate crisis and how a solution can only be found once the government is pared back to a leaner, more agile and less bound by red tape core of problem solvers. I talks about competence and creativity and radical ideas in the face of insurmountable odds once freed from constraint. The protagonists are young, scrappy and ambitious and the idea that you can make a difference, can step up and save everyone if only you were free to do so.

Minus One is about humans struggling to deal with a crisis in the face of a LACK of government, with almost no military after the trauma of a war they were forced into by their government and then lost badly. It's about picking up the pieces and then having those pieces kicked over again because of the actions of others and possibly, the inaction of one of the protagonists in the past. It's about regret and shame and heartbreak and the feeling you are not worthy of happiness so denying it when it presents itself to you.

And while Shin deals with the constraints placed on Japan by the treaty that ended World War II and whether or not they can deploy their self-defense forces to try and stop Godzilla before it is too late, Minus one deals with the lack of support from the US Occupying Forces who seem to not care if Japan gets absolutely destroyed again. You can almost feel a kind of callous disdain in the non-presence of the Americans as if they are ok with Japan being destroyed as long as it doesn't lead to conflict with the USSR. Or maybe they are just using that as an excuse to further humiliate a defeated enemy that once threatened them.

[macgyvermedical]

Wound Care For Adults

So the wife was on backpacking reddit and found that a lot of people can't tell the difference between wounds you need some vaseline and a bandaid for, wounds that need a little home TLC, wounds you need to go to an urgent care for, and wounds you actually need to go to the emergency department for, so we're gonna talk about that here.

Wounds that need some vaseline and a bandaid:

A blister that popped

A non-gaping cut

A skinned knee (small amount of fresh, shallow road rash with nothing embedded)

Keep in mind that you should NOT use rubbing alcohol, iodine, mercurochrome, or hydrogen peroxide on any of these. It will just hurt and potentially kill healthy cells in the wound. Neosporin or other antibiotic ointment is okay if you happen to have it, but the antibiotics themselves don't last long and are generally not worth the extra money.

Wash the wound with plain tap water, pat it dry with a clean cloth or piece of gauze, dab on a little petroleum jelly (Vaseline) and slap a bandage on that beby.

Wounds that need some TLC at home:

A small, shallow burn with nothing stuck to it

A slightly infected open blister or non-gaping cut

Slightly infected road rash or shallow road rash with something embedded in it

Cut gaping less than 1/4 inch (1/2 cm)

Small, shallow burn: Right after you get the burn, run it under cool tap water for 5-10 minutes, even if you think it's already cool. This will help clean the wound and stop the burn from getting any deeper. Do not ice. Do not put oil or butter or vaseline on the wound. Use an over the counter burn gel and a bandaid to hold it in place.

Slightly infected small wound/road rash: You'll know it's slightly infected if there's redness and swelling around the edges (up to 2cm), if there is drainage, and if it smells bad. It will also probably hurt more than you think it should. For this you'll want to do hot compresses about 4 times a day for 20 minutes per time until the infection goes away. To do this, get a pot and get water hot enough that it is uncomfortable to touch. Then put a wash cloth in that water, pull it out, wring it out, and hold it against the wound. It should be uncomfortably hot and just a little painful. When it cools down, dip it back in the pot, wring it out, and do it again. At the end of 20 minutes the whole area around the wound should be pink.

Road rash with something embedded: If there's a tiny stone or pieces of visible dirt on this section of road rash, you'll need to clean it with a moderately forceful stream of water. You can do this with an irrigation syringe you can get from the pharmacy, or you can make your own using a plastic zipper bag. Fill a bag with water, then cut a teeny tiny hole in one of the corners. Squeeze the bag to make a stream of water, then direct that stream at the wound. This will take potentially a lot of water. Keep at it until there is nothing visible in the wound, then treat with vaseline and a bandaid.

A cut gaping less than 1/4 inch: If this is on your face, genitals, or hands and you care about scarring, go to an emergency department. If this is on another part of your body and you're okay with a scar, keep reading. Stop bleeding with pressure. Clean the wound by running clean tap water through it and pat the edges dry. Make some butterfly bandages out of strong tape- I recommend silk medical tape, but in a pinch you could use duct tape or similar.

Starting on one end, tape down one side of a butterfly bandage, pull it across the cut, and tape it to the other side. Move a 1/4 inch down the cut, and tape another one down, then another, until you have taped the length of the cut. Put some kind of breathable bandage on top of this.

Wounds that need to go to an urgent care:

Cut gaping more than 1/4 inch but that you can still stop bleeding with pressure.

Open blister, cut, burn, or road rash that is draining thick, yellow-or-white drainage and is not getting better with hot compresses, but you don't have a fever

Stop any bleeding, clean by running water over the injury, and go to an urgent care or your family doctor if you happen to be able to get in for a same-day appointment.

Wounds that need to go to an emergency department:

Any cut that gapes on the face, palm of the hand, or genitals

Infection with streaks or with which you have a fever/chills, or for which the red area grows by more than a cm in an hour

Burn larger than the palm of your hand or that is more than skin deep

Any wound that was spurting blood or that needed a tourniquet to stop bleeding

Go to the emergency department as soon as possible, they'll take care of it.

[total-dxmure]

✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER TWO

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff. (A/N: this chapter is just plot/character building. next chapter we're getting to the good stuff)

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

The old farm truck rocked back and forth as you made your way up the all-too familiar dirt path, heading in the direction of the greenhouses. You’d already let the hens out to graze and feed and the last thing you had to do before dropping today’s produce off was check on the nurseries. 

Johnny Cash’s southern twang hummed gently over the speakers, your well worn-in cassette tape having been the first thing you reached for this morning. The sun had risen just a few hours ago, and after a few cups of much needed coffee you were ready to go. 

The caffeine had done the lord's work, having cleared your brain of any anxious background noise. You could actually function when you had tasks at hand. The second you slowed down though… well, that was a different story. You were trying hard not to imagine Abby sitting beside you in the beat-to-hell red pickup, her blonde braid tossed over her shoulder as she stuck her arm out of the window. You used to joke about her being part dog, what with her loving the wind on her face so much. You missed being able to reach out and wrap a stray strand of blonde hair around your finger, only giving it a soft tug when those blue eyes of hers looked at you with a little too much heat behind them. 

So instead of looking at the empty passenger seat you busied yourself with turning up the volume, country music crackling over the shot, old speakers. You all but jumped out of the car the second you put the car in park, ready to get your hands dirty and your mind preoccupied.

You couldn’t remember how many times the two of you had snuck off to the greenhouse when your mother had gotten a little too overbearing back when she still lived in the main house with you. There wasn’t a single surface in the old rickety building that abby hadn’t fucked you on or vice versa. 

You walked along the rows and rows of seedlings, looking for any sign of water rot or bug infestations. Everything was perfect, every stem and leaf a vibrant green. Tomatoes, all different kinds of summer squash, and beans of every variety; you had the gift of a green thumb. Your father was more than happy to sign his company over to you right before he passed. All five acres of his property belonged to you now, and with that every bit of responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. You used to resent the fact that you were so young and in charge of so much. Now you were thankful for the constant work. Distractions. You hated seeing your dad’s life work being summed up as a mere distraction, but it was the only thing that got you out of bed in the morning. 

Everyone in the family knew that your dad had wanted a boy when your mother’s pregnancy was first announced. It was a family business, the job having been passed down to him by his own father. Still, he had been ecstatic to show you the ropes. Rather than taking up dance or art like most other little girls your age, you spent your free time elbow deep in mud. You wore the bows and fussed over getting new outfits, but overalls were your daily uniform. 

You wore a pair even today, your work boots tightly fastened to ward away any unwanted pecks from overprotective mother hens. Today was bound to be monotonous, as it always was. All you had to do was repot a few strawberry plants. Maybe if you were lucky a goat would find a hole in the gate and escape. At least it would give you something to worry about that wasn’t Abby related. 

You slunk over towards the sinks, pumping soap into your dirt covered palm to wash off the dirt. You rubbed your hands together to begin lathering but froze when you realized your right hand felt bare. You brushed your thumb against your middle finger only to realize that it was just as you had feared. 

Your ring. It wasn’t there. 

White hot dread locked your limbs as you turned your hand over, the dainty opal missing from your middle finger. You blinked, hoping that you were just seeing things. You didn’t even turn off the sinks before racing back over to the repotting table, as if the promise ring had grown legs and would escape you. Your eyes frantically searched the table, pain shooting through your knees as you dropped down on all fours, pushing dirt and leaves aside to get a better vantage point. Nothing. It wasn’t there. 

“Oh god. No! No, no, no.” You all but screamed, eyes filling with tears as you pulled yourself off. 

You broke out into a nervous sweat, the blood rushing from your head. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening right now. 

You didn’t care if you killed the plants, you ripped the strawberries up by their stems, shaking their roots out as you searched their new pots. 

Every. Single. One. 

Empty. 

Abby had given you that ring just before her last deployment, promising that she would be giving you the real thing once she got back. Of course, she never did. It was single handedly the most important piece of jewelry that you had ever owned, even above your grandmother’s pearls and engagement ring. How could you be so reckless? Why hadn’t you thought to leave it in the car? 

“Stupid! I’m so fucking stupid!” You screamed, tossing a clay pot on the ground in a fit of anger. It shattered behind you, exploding into a thousand tiny pieces. 

You spent an hour sifting through dirt and untangling roots before you finally realized that it was a lost cause. The ring was gone. You’d wrecked the entire greenhouse in your frantic search and the strawberries were just as you expected: dead. 

You slammed the door shut behind you, the old window panes shaking with the force. You had barely thrown yourself into the pickup before your body was wracked with full body sobs. White knuckling the steering wheel you leaned your head forward, completely unbothered as the horn blared. 

How could you lose something so precious to you? It had been the last gift that you had ever received from Abby. The last. There was no possible way to replace something that was that special to you. Her hands had touched that ring. She’d been nervous to give it to you in the first place, anxious that two years hadn’t been enough time to give you something that sentimental. It was the meaning behind it that had you clutching at your chest, your fingernails digging into your shirt as if you could rip your heart straight out from between your ribs. 

She was going to replace that ring once she got back. Give you the “real deal” once she was back home and able to have a ceremony. 

But there would never be a ceremony. Never another ring. Never another Abby. 

Never. Never. Never. 

It felt like you were losing a piece of her, and with that came the revelation- the same one that you’ve already had a thousand times- that she was really gone. There would be no do-overs; no alternate universes where the two of you could be together. The reality of your situation sat heavy in your throat, clogging your airway. 

The loss of Abby had eclipsed your heart completely, and darkness was all that was left. 

You stayed in the car until your eyes had practically swelled shut and there were no more tears to shed. 

The car ride back to her childhood home was completely silent, the only sound being the engine of Joel’s shiny new truck. She did her best to compliment him on the new purchase, but Ellie was sure that she didn’t sound even half as enthusiastic as she had hoped she would. She didn’t feel like being an actress today. Not when he already knew how bad she was doing. Joel had taken one look at her as she got off of the plane and frowned, grabbing her bags only after giving her a bone shattering side hug. 

“Well I missed ya,” He finally spoke, causing her to jump in surprise. The sound of his baritone voice soothed her nerves over though. “I’ve really missed you annoyin’ the hell outta me at all hours of the day.” 

Ellie cracked a small smile at that, leaning her head into the plush leather seat. The last time she saw Joel was when she had first been transferred to the Kindred Hospital back in Chicago, which was where she had rotted away for a full week. Her eye and face healed up quickly but her back was a different story. She’d been burned badly and had all of the nasty scars to prove it. He had stayed by her bedside for the entire week and had helped her to readjust to being back home in her apartment. The nearly debilitating pain was the only thing that had distracted her from the gravity of her situation back then. 

Her therapist said it was normal to disassociate for long periods of time when the body and mind are put under so much stress. Ellie still felt like Ellie back then, but it was only because she didn’t have any real grasp on reality. It was just a few days after Joel left that she finally snapped out of it. She was one of the only five that survived. She was told that landmines were the cause of so many deaths in Iraq. 

“It happens all the time out there. You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.”  

She didn’t want her unit to just be another statistic. They weren’t just numbers. They were people who had loved ones at home. Loved ones that they had to leave for months and months on end. She couldn’t help but shoulder all of the blame. Ellie was the one that had led them out there in the first place. It was her fault, so why hadn’t she died right along with them? She would have considered herself lucky if she had lost her life right along with them. These were the people that she saw daily. Ellie had developed deep friendships with every member of her unit. She knew the details of all of their lives- the names of their children and loved ones back at home, what they wanted to do with their lives once they were dismissed- how could she not feel like someone had ripped her soul to shreds? How could she not constantly remind herself, every second of every goddamn day, that she was the reason. 

She was a ghost. A mere shell of the person that she once was and she had no one to blame but herself. 

“I didn’t know you liked me being annoying so much,” Still, she turned to Joel and cracked him a small smile. It was more for his sake and less for hers though. “I’ll make sure to turn it up a notch while I’m here.” 

The older man grumbled, shaking his head slightly as he kept his eyes on the country roads in front of him. “That sounds like a threat.” 

Ellie could tell that he was playing with her. They were professionals when it came to teasing each other, often to the point that people thought that they were seriously bickering. The short haired female let herself settle into the normalcy of the moment. He hadn’t mentioned anything about the accident or her mental state yet, so it was easy to pretend that things were still…okay. 

So that’s exactly what she did. She began to pretend. Ellie allowed herself to be transported back in time. This was just another Tuesday. She’d get back home and sweet talk Joel into cooking her an after school snack. Then she’d go up to her room and procrastinate doing her homework so that she could reread one of her comics. 

“Got anything good in here?” Ellie asked before opening up the center console. “I’m not gonna find anything nasty, am I?” 

Joel’s lips pursed as he tried to fight off a smile. “Don’t go rifflin’ through my shit, kiddo.” 

Her eyes snagged on a familiar purple book, and for the first time in a while something yawned to life in her chest. Joy. 

“What do we have here?” She pulled out the book of puns, using it to fan herself before she cracked the bad boy open. 

“Ah, don’t start.” He groaned. 

She didn’t take the time to wonder why he had put the well loved book in his brand new truck. Instead of allowing herself to be overcome with endearment she flipped to a random page, her lips turning up in the first genuine smile she’d had in months. 

“Where can you find a tiny coke?” She asked him, turning in her seat so that she could face him, tucking one of her converse-clad feet underneath her. 

“Hey! Get your dirty shoes off of my new upholstery!” Joel reached over and gave her knee a slap. 

Ellie reared back, holding the book of puns tight to her chest. 

“Come on, try and guess.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned his arm against the door. 

“I don’t know… tiny town.” 

Her nose wrinkled, an eyebrow quirking up at his half assed answer. 

“Shitty guess, but alright.” She mumbled under her breath. “Mini-soda.” 

“Hilarious.” He said sarcastically, turning onto the familiar drive. 

“I think I saw you smile though.”She leaned over to give his cheek a poke, but he swiftly batted her hand away. 

The truck’s all-terrain tires crunched over the gravel driveway, revealing the only real home she’d ever lived in. The house and yard looked exactly the same as it had whenever she was a teenager. She sighed out a breath of relief, not knowing how much well she would have handled any sort of severe change. Ellie opened the passenger side door before Joel had a chance to put the car in park, eager to settle in after the flight. She wanted to shower, and that surprised her a bit. A welcome surprise.  

Maybe things would be better for her here.  

“You didn’t turn my old room into some perverted sex dungeon while I was gone, did you?” She teased as she grabbed her tan duffel bag, easily tossing it over her shoulder as she bounded up the stairs. 

He laughed as a response, following close behind her so that he could unlock the front door. She didn’t know why he even bothered. He lived in the middle of nowhere, and they rarely got visitors. 

“I’ve got some guitars in there that are worth a fortune.” He’d told her the last time she’d asked. 

It had been one of the few times that Ellie had snuck out of the house after curfew. She’d been unable to haul herself back into her second story window once she’d gotten back home and had been forced to sleep in the beat up old hatchback that he had bought her for her sixteenth birthday. Breakfast that morning had been… tense, to say the least. 

“I didn’t touch your room… but I did get a dog, so make sure not to let her out.” 

She paused at that, turning to look at him with wide eyes. There had been a strict “no animals” rule back when she lived with him. She never thought she’d see the day where Joel Miller would adopt a pet, let alone a dog. 

“You got a dog?” She was still in disbelief and half expected him to fucking with her. 

“Buckley is a good boy. He shits on the floor sometimes and barks all hours of morning though. It’s almost like having you home.” He teased, bumping his shoulder against hers so that he could shove his key into the lock. 

The deadbolt clicked open, and low and behold there was a dog. He looked like some sort of lab mix, his pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth as he anxiously waited for his owner’s return. Ellie was too excited to come up with a witty response to Joel’s joke. She tossed her duffle down on the couch, quickly getting down on her knees so that she could pet the dog. 

“He’s not much of a guard dog, is he?” He asked, closing the door behind him. 

The second that Ellie’s hand tangled into his thick black fur he flopped down, eager for love. Ellie smirked, looking at Joel over her shoulder. 

“I don’t know. He looks pretty ferocious to me.” 

The sudden knock on the door had Ellie’s lips downturning, eyebrows pinching in confusion. She didn’t like the idea of company right now, and the last thing she wanted was to socialize with anyone. For a second she feared that he had called a doctor or therapist to come out to the house to see her. She wasn’t sure if she could take another “come to Jesus” meeting this week, and she was barely holding it together as is. Ellie put her hands on her knees, pushing herself up to stand before she nodded at the door. 

“Company?” She simply asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Joel ignored her obvious distaste, wrenching the door open quickly before she could stop him. It sure as hell wasn’t Tommy. . . and Ellie doubted that most doctors wore overalls, even in Jackson. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, the golden rays shone through the vast expanse of trees on the property, making it almost look like the world was on fire. The warm glow behind the beautiful stranger made her look ethereal almost, her eyes watery and cheeks flushed. At her feet was a cardboard box packed to the brim with fruits and vegetables. All at once Ellie became startlingly aware of the fact that she looked like absolute hammered shit. Her hair was a frizzy mess, her skin was paler than it had ever been before, and she was wearing an old NASA shirt and dingy sweatpants. If she noticed her disheveled appearance she didn’t show it. 

The smile that she beamed in Joel’s direction didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a strange sense of understanding flickered in Ellie’s gaze as she took a few inquisitive steps forward. Ellie Williams knew what suffering was like; true suffering. Looking at her was like looking in a mirror, her well hidden misery plain as day to the auburn haired female. 

“Sorry I’m so late, Mr Miller. My truck was giving me problems.” Her voice was beautiful. Melodic in a way that Ellie’s wasn’t. 

Spring. . . this girl was spring incarnate. 

And she was lying through her teeth. 

She’d been crying. Ellie could tell. Still, Joel was already peeking his head out of the door, looking in the direction of where she had parked. 

“I could take a look at it for you.” He was being dismissed with a small wave of your hand before he could even get the words fully out. 

“That’s so nice of you, but I’ve got it cranking up again. It shouldn’t give me any more trouble today.” Her hair fell off of her shoulder as she leaned down to pick up the box.

Ellie moved forward without thinking, picking up the heavy box for the girl before her fingers could even grip the sides of the cardboard. “Here, let me get it.” She said, craning her neck up so that she could speak directly to the woman. 

There wasn’t a single thing about you that Ellie found undesirable. In that moment she was completely certain that you were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, even with the pain and memory that swirled behind your bright eyes. Their eyes locked, and much to Ellie’s embarrassment, she held her gaze. She watched her with the same sort of silent appreciation. 

“-I think it would be good for her. What do you say?” Ellie hadn’t noticed that Joel had been talking the entire time. 

The woman blinked a few times, tearing her eyes away from Ellie. “Huh? I’m sorry, do you mind repeating that?” She was nervously tucking a few strands of unruly hair behind her ear, shifting in place on the front porch. 

“I was just saying that Ellie is going to be staying out here with me. I think working with you on the farm would be good for her. It would help her to get out of the house, and I know you’ve been pretty busy since it’s just you running things now.” Joel put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Supportive. Non-judgemental. He was reminding her what would be good for her mental state right now, and having something to do with her hands would certainly help to take her mind off of things. 

“O-Oh!” The girl’s lips parted in shock, her eyes flickering between the two of them. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. I get a pretty early start though, so don’t feel obligated to wake up as early as I do.” 

“I’ll wake up.” Ellie said quickly, nodding her head. 

Her words held a tone of desperation and it had Joel’s head whipping around in her direction. He probably wasn’t expecting her to be so supportive of his last minute idea. She couldn’t be sure if it was because she genuinely wanted to get her mind off of things or if the farm girl’s looks had anything to do with her enthusiasm. Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt drawn to someone like this. Relationships were the last thing on her mind these days. 

“Can you start tomorrow?” The other girl asked, shoving her hands into her front pockets. 

Adorable. She was adorable. Ellie felt her breath hitch and all she could do was nod as an answer for your question. 

“Alright. . . “She began to trail off, backing up a few steps on the porch. It seemed like you were in a bit of a hurry. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“Tomorrow.” Ellie repeated back to her. 

She leaned back, lifting the box higher up on her chest so that she could watch the woman get back into her mud stained pickup truck. She only took a step back when Joel started to close the door on her. 

“So you’re actually fine with that? I didn’t think you would go for it, honestly.” Joel rubbed at his stubbled chin, flashing her a small smile of approval. 

“There’s no way I want to be stuck in a house with your ass all hours of the day.” Ellie quipped, walking to the kitchen so that she could place the vegetables on the countertop. 

“I think workin’ there would be good for the both of you. That poor girl has had an awful year. . . I think you’d be good for each other. She needs a friend.” Joel’s voice was somber as he followed her into the kitchen. 

Ellie turned to face the older man, swallowing hard as he leaned against the doorway. He was being a bit cryptic. It seemed like he didn’t want to be the one to tell Ellie the girl’s business. Still, she was curious, and she didn’t want to be blind sided tomorrow just in case she wanted to talk about it. Ellie wasn’t usually nosey, but she had a strong urge to get to know her. 

“What do you mean by that?” Ellie’s first guess was that she had to be going through some sort of divorce. Joel had mentioned the fact that she was on her own now, so coming to that conclusion was natural. 

“No, nothin’ like that,” He cleared his throat before pushing off of the door frame, slowly beginning to unload the box's contents. “She lost her girlfriend and her father this year. She’s the kindest girl. . . you’d never know how much she’s sufferin’ based on how she acts.” 

“Oh.” Ellie frowned, having realized that your mourning must be the reason for your sad, sad eyes. She understood how it felt to lose so many people so close together. Better than anyone, really.

“Oh.” 

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[juuuulez]

carmy and his girlfriend who’s a celebrity chef

maybe you won one of those reality cooking shows and skyrocketed in popularity. a steady social media following, featuring on ads, before eventually getting your own daytime television show. it’s something cute, where you where a nice little outfit and apron, showing the viewers how to make restaurant quality dishes from home.

of course carmy knows who you are. it’s his job to know the local talent, and yeah, maybe you being so fucking pretty certainly helps. it’s a stupid crush, really. just someone attractive on his instagram feed, someone who also happens to be an amazing chef, and just has the sweetest, most welcoming smile.

your face has been printed out and taped next to a list of names to be aware of, different people of importance who’s opinion of the bear would be crucial. all the wait staff has been heavily trained for such an occasion.

but that doesn’t mean they’ll behave.

because when richie spots you? it’s over. he knows about carmy’s little crush, thinks it’s fucking adorable. plus, eva likes watching those cooking shows, you’re pretty good.

you’ve had a lovely meal, some wine, and find the conversation with him to be pleasant. it’s always flattering when the staff knows who you are, makes you feel a little less weird for dining alone. but richie being richie invites you back into the kitchen, and you being you, absolutely fucking loved that idea.

and you do try to stay out of the way, coat wrapped tight around your body as you step through the pass, making sure to look over the staff’s shoulders and not distract them. but carmen? oh, he has lost it. any sense of coherence has gone out the window, because what? you’re in his restaurant, in HIS kitchen?

you be polite and introduce yourself, offering out a nicely manicured hand for a handshake. carmen stares at it for a moment, before kicking into action, frantically wiping his palm on his apron to accept it.

and when you tell him your name? he says:

“i know.”

it takes you aback for a moment, brows raised in surprise at how blunt he’d been. carmy has enough sense to clock that his reply was strange, for he’s backtracking, trying to save the interaction.

“no, no, i mean— i mean, yeah, i know. you’re on, um, those ads, yeah? for the fucking.. the fuckin’, uh, french cookware.” he practically rambles.

it’s cute, so, so utterly cute. you save the conversation by complimenting the meal and how lovely the experience here has been, which has carmy flustered and red in the face. you decide not to torment him anymore, allowing him to get back to work and the kitchen return to its usual pace.

which, for the record, does not happen. carmy’s flow has been ruined for the night, unable to stop thinking about his embarrassing word-vomit.

it’s okay, though.

on the bill you leave a generous tip.. and your phone number, addressed to “that cute chef.”

[coeurify]

ok but what do you think about making a sex tape with ellie 🧍‍♀️

an: this has been reworked over and over since this request came in in march… so enjoy! its very lovey dovey and sm plot sorry :3

warnings: 18+. filming. jackson!ellie. fingering and oral!r receiving. mostly lovey but some teasing and rough language :3 ellie is obsessed and lovesick and so is reader soooo they make a sex tape. unedited gimme time.

When Ellie first brought up the idea, you had recoiled into her old beat up couch, scoffing as she waved the old camcorder around, a shiteating grin on her face.

“I doubt that thing even works El,” you shrugged your shoulders under the blanket you had stolen off her bed. It wasn't unusual for you to hole up in her small homey garage while she was on patrol.. but what *was* odd was her little.. Souvenir from this particular trip.

“C’mon babe,” Ellie pouted, “Let me try on you..” she wiggled the little camcorder, slipping her hand into the attached grip, flipping open the small screen. Despite your complaints that there was no way it worked, Ellie just could never be wrong. Of course she knew you would fight back, and so she had made sure she fished some batteries too. Of course they came from Maria, the cost three days of stable duty.. But it was worth it for the immune woman, who ducked her nose down and watched the screen flicker to a slow start.

The quality was no better than that of what you could expect from a decades old camera, the film grainy and muffled, each corner covered by symbols Ellie didn’t really understand. But it was no roadblock in the trek of her wants. She smiled when your hands immediately came to slap over your face, voice serious behind your palms as you spoke, “put that down.”

Eventually however, you got a little used to Ellie’s newest fixation. The little hums she made were always a dead give away that she was filming you. During a video game tournament against Dina and Jesse, squished so closely to the two on the floor of the garage that you literally bruised the taller man during a particularly aggressive round of a fighting game. When you were trying your best to compete against your girlfriend’s art skills, tongue poking out the corner of your lips as you worked on a very detailed stick figure that dawned pointed down eyebrows, a large frown and red pencil hair. Even just when you were organizing Ellie’s closet for her, sorting through the tens of sweatshirts with a judging pout on your lips at the mess.

Each time you heard the distinctive sound of El’s attempt at holding back laughs, a small little choked up ‘hmm’ sound. You usually turned your head, quick to flip off your girlfriend-turned-filmmaker. But by the fifth time of catching her smiling behind the little object, you just let her. Whenever you could see her a little less tense, you took it.

Even if that meant starring in all of her little five second shitty clips. Her excuse always, “Just something to look at when I miss you.”

In some ways it made you feel weak legged, slightly lovesick by the thought of Ellie loving you so dearly she just had to steal little memories of you. Every small grin that broke onto freckled cheeks wherever she filmed coaxed you into the haze built up by her new hobby. You became so covered in adoration soon that you resorted to tiny only half mad eye roll when the click of the camera sounded.

Small clips turned into Ellie’s free hand wrapping around your bare waist as you looked in the mirror of her bathroom, the camcorder pressed near your cheek, the auburnette on the other side. You wiped the condensation from the glass, the room still slightly foggy from your shower. “You are not filming me out of the shower,” you huffed. Ellie didn’t answer, the familiar sounding hum stopped only when she pressed a kiss to the base of your neck, lips pulling up into a smile against the skin. “Won’t point too low..” she promised. “You just look so pretty..”

That time, the camera had been closed and discarded on a random bedside table as the two of you stumbled across her floor, giggling as Ellie cursed, stubbing her toe on the corner of the bed she tried to press you down into.

It continued like that, the limits of what you allowed Ellie to film seemed to blur further with every day.. Every curl of her fingers around the object that had become so central to this small haven of her home. Your own neck hot for reasons very different from embarrassment each time the filming light blinked a little too long. The line that you and Ellie had drawn in the sand of your mind was looking a lot less precise with every new memory saved into the device.

Even further along into the passing weeks, you had settled comfortably into yet another night spent at Ellie’s. Your own bedroom had remained untouched for nearly a week this time, bed spread likely just as cold as the air outside. But the garage was warm. The air inside thick as you pressed two fingers against your lips to keep a laugh from spilling out. Glasses of half empty wine, stolen from Tommy and Maria’s cupboard, balanced on the table that sat directly in front of the couch you were cuddled into.

The feeling of wine drunkenness always made you giggly, but your girlfriend parading around her small living space with her camcorder, well, that made you even more prone to bursts of laughs. She had gone from filming and rambling on about what wine you were drinking to zooming into your face, chuckling with breath that smelt like red wine. “See how pretty?” Ellie gaped to no one, stepping closer to you on the couch. The whole garage was painted a light orange from the setting sun outside, but it didn’t stop Ellie.

“El, you’re being a dork,” you chide, shaking your head as more compliments spilt from her. She shoos off the bitten remark with a sound that boarders on a coo, leaning over you as the lens of the camcorder sat close enough to pick up the smaller details of your face the grainy film usually could not.

“I’m just showin’ how perfect you are..” Ellie explains, a softer tone edging into her lungs as she presses her thumb to your cheek, drawing a new heat under the digit. “Perfect cheeks…” her finger traces over your jawline next, and then your chin. Each new landmark of your face that Ellie doted on swept closer and closer to your soft lips. You were no idiot, you saw how the green of her eyes fell to the fat, watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and then out again. You made no move to stop what came next.

That next move was your girlfriend’s finger following like a moth to a flame to the one spot that teetered on that blurry line again, thumb pressing softly around the curve of your lips.

“Perfect lips,” Ellie continued, eyes flicking back and forth from the camera screen to you. Soon the pad of her finger is right against your bottom lip, and the room seems to slow.

The both of you hold bated breaths as you mull over your options. But this mulling is no longer than a few seconds, feeling overwriting the more logical side of your brain with a gushy type of tightness in your chest.

Your lips part, eyes meeting the lense as you suck the tip of Ellie’s thumb into your mouth. Lips wrap around the soft skin, salty and cold, and Ellie has little to say other than a slow and breathy, “Fuck..”

Your tongue peaks out just for a moment, lavishing over the wet skin, but Ellie is quick to pull away, leaving your shining lips parted in confusion. The camera falls to her side as her free fingers wrap around your wrist. Just like last time, the little red light twists away from your face. Ellie’s toes step backwards from that oh so mysterious line you two made.

“You know what you do to me, hm?” Ellie questioned as she hauled you up by your arm, a sharp giggle following as she stomped to the bed. The camera is discarded on the table near her pillows as you are thrown back on it.

“No,” you tease, your next giggle cut off by a thump noise that was Ellie pushing you back against grey sheets, you make a sound that almost sounds like “oof” as you try to readjust. Ellie clambers on top of your squirming frame as another sputtered laugh escapes at the messy, and not very seductive, way you two found contact against the creaking mattress.

“Tell me,” you prompt, meeting Ellie’s narrowed green eyes. “Why should I? You’re laughin’ at me.”

Your eyes roll as Ellie’s lips fall into a pout that you want to kiss clean off. “Stop being a baby,” you mutter before letting your impulse win, your hands cupping the freckles cheeks of your girlfriend and pulling her down for a soft kiss. Her pouted lips quickly shape to your own, and you sigh in approval as the hand not holding herself up traces down to your waist.

“I’m not a baby,” your girlfriend complains when your lips part from each other, and you nearly pinch her cheeks from just how lovely you find the whiny drawl in her voice, instead you just shrug, biting back another half bubbled up laugh, “mhm, prove it.”

Ellie does just that. One tug on your hips has you flatter against the bed, one poke at your side has a squeal leaving your mouth. You see how Ellie’s lips quirk up, but before you can admire the sight, she kisses you again.

“So,” Ellie punctuates the word with a kiss, the sort that makes a loud and annoying smacking noise, before trailing her lips to your cheek. “Fuckin” Ellie’s lips find home on your jawline next, and act that has a simmering heat grow between your legs. “Perfect.” Ellie finishes the repeat of what her fingers had done earlier by nudging your head back, lips pressing softer kisses to the flesh of your neck.

Your eyes flicked to the side table, pupils finding the little camcorder as the auburn haired girl bit at your neck, your attention pulled away as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “El,” you breathe out, a hand finding her messy hair, nails scraping at her scalp as she bit harsher at the column of your throat. You aren’t sure why her name had been your first thought to say after seeing the camcorder, swallowing as your fingers itched to reach toward the side table.

“Hm? Tell me,” Ellie taunts, words muffled as her next target becomes your collarbone. Your own words biting at you again as your eyebrows furrowed together, watching as your girlfriend’s fingertips find the edge of your shirt, pushing it up as your hand falls from her hair to help take it off.

You pull her back for another kiss before you can even think to answer her question, one you weren’t even sure you could explain. Ellie’s needy fingers come into contact with the fat of your tits, tweaking at the perked nipples, nails pressing in just a little too hard, earning a mewl directly against the spit slick kiss. As Ellie kissed you, you tried your best to focus on the feeling, and not how you were acutely aware of the camera beside you.

Her tongue swiped at your bottom lip, warm against your parting lips as she searched to deepen the kiss, messy sounds of half breaths and kissing all sounded through the small area, your hips rolling up as her knee slotted itself between your trembling thighs.

You can’t help but wonder what this may look like on camera, and as Ellie pulls back, you notice the green of her eyes had dimmed, pupils blown as the pretty eyelashes fanned lightly. The freckles splattered over the apples of her cheeks were particularly prominent tonight, and you suspected it had something to do with the blood that rushed there, rosy and all around causing that same lovesick feeling to creep up your weakened bones.

You wonder if she would look as pretty on that grainy screen too.

Before your mind can even form another thought, Ellie is pulling away from your lips, a small whine the response she received. You can’t complain for long as she moves down, wet lips trailing sloppy kisses to your soft stomach, planting the ember of a growing fire in your groin, causing your hand to flex. Your eyes are pulled by an invisible string to the side of you again, the black material of the camcorder your gaze’s target. Ellie grumbles in response, and a small pinch on your hip has you yelping.

“What’re you looking at? Look at me.”

“Ellie,” you try again, lip quivering nervously as she ushers you to lift your hips, tugging off the bottoms you wore. “Fuckkkk,” she drawls, lost in her own little world as a large hand presses your thighs open. “You see that?” she marvels, a finger pressing against the wet spot on your panties. When she presses, you can feel the fabric stick to you, nearing translucent as she teases, your lips hugging the now soaked panties. It has your hips stirring in their spot, the flame in your stomach burning your liquid feeling stomach. “Ellie,” you sigh again.

Finally her gaze looks up, “Yea?” she asks, her voice softening. You can see the flash of confusion, her hand falling from your thigh as she searched for any apprehension. “You ok?”

“I can’t—“ your voice comes out whinier than you would like to admit, harsh against your ears with a feeling of embarrassment. “Can’t say it,” you finish, eyes moving to the camera sitting on the small wooden table beside you for the umpteenth time.

Ellie follows your eyes, and when you look back to her, there’s a flash of surprise in the shade of green you loved so much. It was replaced quickly, her eyelids drooping as her chin tilted up. “Hm. Don’t know what you mean,” she shrugs, fingers going back to teasing your panty line.

Her tone is laced with sarcasm, the teasing tilt to it is a voice you had heard many times before, many times in this exact position. Ellie liked to make you say things, liked to watch you squirm. You were convinced at this point she got off on your embarrassment, and she probably wouldn’t even deny that.

“Gonna have to spell it out for me, babe,” Ellie added, dipping down to place soft kisses at your hip-bone, pink muscle licking over a mark there.

A low and annoyed sound escapes your throat, and your girlfriend chuckles against your flesh, one finger curling around the fabric of your panties, tugging it down a little ungracefully, your shaking thighs to thank for that.

“Barely even touched you yet and you’re shakin,” Ellie teases again, whispering softly, “Such a pretty pussy..” as the sight of your weepy folds meet her eyes. “This all for me, baby? Or somethin’ else on your mind?”

Your eyes squeeze shut again, hoping to rid your mind of the film reel like thoughts of the camera pressed in Ellie’s hand as she did this. They played over and over behind the black of your eyes, and another frustrated sound fills the garage.

“Not gonna answer?” Ellie was quieter now, repositioning herself, parting your thighs even more. A finger ghosted over your dripping cunt, a hum following the action. “Can’t make you feel better if you don’t use your words, y’know?”

The warm air hit your folds as Ellie exposed you more, thighs burning from the stretch, from the tight grip of one of her hands, fingers digging into and squeezing the fatty flesh.

The blanket beneath your bare ass is no comfort as you move around, and Ellie’s nose bumps against the softness of your thigh. So close, so fucking close to giving exactly what you were searching for, so close to your aching center that your resolve cracks lightly, head tilted back and against the pillow.

“The camera,” you croak, your mouth dry as your lips part, refusing to look at the other girl.

“What about the camera? Look at me and tell me what you want.”

The crease between your eyebrows likely was gaining small droplets of sweat just from how hard you were attempting to avoid this entire fucking conversation, but Ellie kept pressing you further, and who were you to deny her?

“Wanna film this,” you eventually admit, head dipping down to meet her darkened eyes.

“Yea baby? Wanna see what a mess I can make you?” Ellie’s words start to blur together, the idea surely muddling any coherent thoughts together in her mind, licking her lips as she awaits your response.

“Fuck— mmph, yes El. Please.*”

Ellie’s lips curl into a smile that’s more wicked than loving, “Red button starts it, you can hold it.” She instructed, and you scramble to reach your arm out, grasping at the little hand strap connected to the camcorder.

“There you go babe,” she nods, “give it a go, let me see what you’ve got.”

Your fingers are shaking so badly it takes a moment for your thumb to hit the button, to see the soft little red light noting the start of the film.

The grainy screen doesn’t pick up on all the freckles adorning Ellie’s face. The ones that made you feel all gooey, that you wanted to kiss until her face was a pretty shade of red. But it did capture her parted lips, the expanse of your thighs, and your shaky grip tilted the camera down as Ellie’s head dipped between your thighs.

Her mouth latched to your achy cunt, tongue licking up the drops of arousal that covered your slit, pearling on the petal like lips that she spreads with her fingers.

Your arms almost immediately gave out.

Clearly, you were not as skilled in the art of film making as Ellie had been, the camera dropping almost completely to your tummy as Ellie sucked at your cunt. Her eyes flicked up, and she unlatched from the saccharine slick that pooled on her tongue.

“You keep that camera steady,” she muttered, thumb rubbing tiny, tight circles on your throbbing clit. “Or I stop, yea?”

You nod quickly, hips grinding into the slow and steady motion of her thumb, wet with your sticky . You would have agreed to anything she demanded of you right now anyway. Too needy, too desperate to feel her lips on you again.

“ ‘M counting on you to make a pretty movie for me.”

The sentence tapers off as she disappears to the space between your thighs again, and you nearly and truly sob as her nose bumps your clit, her tongue poking experimentally against your hole, feeling as it clenches against nothing.

You know your whimpers and quick little puffs of air are being picked up by the camera, but you’re too focused on keeping the lense directly focused on the auburn tendrils of hair, on where her face was covered by your thighs caging her cheeks in, keeping her in the place she most needed to be, drinking down every single single drop you gave her.

“Ellie,” you whine, toes curling when she presses away from your clit, two long fingers coming to part your folds, admiring the sticky sight.

“Shhh,” Ellie coos, eyes glancing up at the camera again, the burning sight of her fern colored gaze through the tiny screen has your stomach clenching even harsher, hands trembling lightly.

The air on your exposed center lasts no longer than a few seconds, Ellie’s head dipping down as the warm, wet feeling of a glob of her spit trails down your clit, finding your pulsing hole. Her tongue swipes it quickly after, suckling gently at the shiny bubbles. The sound that follows, the loud wet squelch of your wetness mixing with her spit is enough to make you want to cover the speaker of the camcorder, fingers gripping tightly at the little contraption. She focuses on licking at your sopping cunt, her head moving slightly, moaning against your folds.

“Oh—nnh—El!” you cry, your chin trembling in tandem with the hand you try desperately to keep still. Your hips rut up, and Ellie’s face moves up with you, an arm detaching from its place on your squishy thigh to instead wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer.

You can feel yourself closer, closer to that delicious peak, Ellie’s nose bumping your clit, tongue working mind numbing ministrations on you.

Then she pulls back.

“Fuckin made for me,” Ellie groans, taking a deep breath as she unlatched from your pussy, her fingers sweeping through your puffy lips. “Was fuckin’ made to let me taste you.” Her eyes flick to the camera, her tone louder than usual— a little less breathy. She wanted the microphone to hear.

You cry pathetically at the loss of her tongue, lip quivering.

“Tell me,” she demands, voice overpowering the slick noises of her now shiny fingers rubbing between your folds, the tips pausing at your pulsing hole, dipping only a little in, teasing. “Tell me this pretty pussy was made for me.”

And then Ellie is reaching forward, letting go of her grip on your hips to grab harshly at the camera, maneuvering it to show your trembling body, her fingers pressing open your lips, giving the camera a pretty close up of your soaked cunt. She croons at the sight, her fingers pressing together to land a short and sharp slap against the swollen lips. “S’pretty.”

“Ellie,” you choke, chest heaving up and down as the embarrassment creeps up, making that coil in your tummy even tighter.

“Tell me,” she says again, smoothly.

Desperate to have her fingers opening you up, to have her filling you and breaking that tightly wrapped tension in your groin, you break.

“I’m yours el. ‘m all yours, was made for you,” your voice is restrained, quiet as you chew at your lips, stirring in your spot as she continues the teasing.

“What else? Tell me more, baby,” she insists, one long finger sinking into you, hissing at the feeling of your cunt molding to her, perfect for her as you clench.

“A—ah!” your voice is a sweet little cry. You grind down into the feeling, searching for more. “It’s yours El,” you babble— louder now, head thrown back. Ellie captured the moment with a quick tilt up of the camera. “M-my pussy s’all yours.”

“Fuck,” Ellie breathes, her own, usually steady camera hand, wavering as you speak. She grants you with another finger as she thrusts harshly into you, a shriek pulled from your open mouth.

“So—s-so fucking perfect,” she grunts, curling her fingers gently, hitting that squishy spot in your walls that has you keening, eyes rolling back. “Love this pussy so much, shit—shit, love you so much.”

“Love you too El,” you blubber, your chin tilting down to stare directly at the camera for a second. That awkwardness, the fear from the early days of when she’d film you completely gone as you moan pathetically, eyes shiny with complete and utter adoration.

She only pistons her fingers into you harder, faster, relishing in how you moan, how your toes curl and your chin wobbles. You’re the prettiest fucking thing she’s ever seen.

The camera points down to where she’s thrusting into you, watching through the screen as you meet her thrusts, your hips moving against the grey sheets, your thighs squeezing her hand in between them as you sob out.

Ellie meets your eyes, stealing your attention from the camera she keeps focused on your squirming frame, pounding her fingers into your cunt. “Cum for me, you can do it baby, go on. Give me a pretty show.”

And you do. Your sweaty back lifts off the bed with a sharp sob as the cord in your tummy snaps, gushing around Ellie’s fingers, pulsing around her as she thrusts shallowly, riding you through it.

Your vision goes black for a second as you heave, hands shaking as you reach out for Ellie, fingers looking to curl around her warm skin.

You don’t even notice the off click of the camera, of how she lets it softly drop to the side as she climbs up your shaky form, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“So pretty,” Ellie hums, “Prettiest movie star ever,” she mumbled, and you pour your lips— getting another soft kiss as she continues to plant tiny loving pecks around your face.

“Never should’ve let you keep that camera,” you whisper gently, smiling right when she does against the corner of your mouth that she pecks at.

“Yea fuckin’ right, we just made the movie of the year babe.”

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (epilogue)

Mom gets fitted for dentures next week 🎊 🎉 🦷 💝

Epilogue (Promises)

You had meant it when you said it so long ago. A promise. One you intended to keep

「Warnings/Promises: Alastor x Fem Reader, Valentino x Fem reader (just TRUST ME), nipple chain, Val exists too much, Kaiju cock, pussy wet??, aphrodisiac, Alastor shade, fanatic sinners, misleading porno covers, Angel Dust is perfect as always, blood, stabbing, filming sexy things, Val in a thong, licking, hair pulling, why bad man have big dick, Alastor isn’t horny but he is possessive, pussy in the ether」

Part 1 smut 💦 Part 2 smut 💦 Side Story Part 3 smut 💦 Part 4 smut💦 Epilogue sexual

***Spoiler for people that need Val warnings*** Val dick touches reader pussy. Val explicit scenes are purple. if you skip the purple parts you will still understand the story and still be in the scene, interacting with him. Reminder, reader is there intentionally and consenting.

minors omg look over there! (🏃‍♀️💨Dni)

“I will admit, I was surprised to get your message.” Val exhaled, one hip out as he rest his weight on his right foot. You hadn’t planned on seeing him again, but as you became comfortable in hell you found yourself remembering the promise to yourself. One you made that day you met Alastor. On the floor of that studio. Your eyes scanned the room. The space was different, the set no longer your cursed cabin scene.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You took a deep breath, you’d practiced this, “Well I’ve been in hell for a while now… and I see you everywhere. I’ve been thinking,” your eyes caught on the door you were confident led to the room that held you. To the bed. Another shaky exhale, you never were much of an actress. “I really missed my chance with you. A powerful overlord… a celebrity.”

A dark chuckle from the moth, his ego fluttering, “Ooh, you’re a little celebrity in your own right. My best seller in ages.”

Oh, right. The tape. You hadn’t watched it yet. Alastor set the VHS copy on the bookshelf, an agreement made you could revisit that memory together if you ever wanted to. Not that you hadn’t heard it before. Nearly two years after its release and still people played it in public. Your first visit to Rosie started with you red faced and sputtering, having had someone on the way there thrust a DVD in front of you. 

The stranger asked for an autograph, but as soon as you saw the cover photo the entire thing had been knocked into the street by Alastor’s microphone. He had been trying to shelter you from interacting too much with the movie.

“Was that—is the cover—?” You were frozen as the sinner ran off, mind trying to process the image.

Alastor hummed, “Not what I’d choose, but I signed away all rights when I made the deal. A little misleading of a photo if you ask me.” He watched with glee as a car pulverized the disc and case. 

A blood red demonic seal splattered with a white liquid and a slender hand scraping into the wood.

“But that’s the Vees for you!”

Indeed, that was the Vees. Val gestured at you with his cigarette and its dramatic holder, “Aren’t you still with the radio demon? Not that I care.” He took a few steps towards you, getting you into arm’s reach before grabbing you by the back of the head and pulling you into him, “Just cuz there's a goalie doesn’t mean I can’t score.”

With how your head was angled back as he had your hair tightly wound in his fist you could see the TV. Always Vox News, you assumed. The time was displayed in the corner. “I am but— he doesn’t, ya know… he doesn’t know I’m here. But he’ll be looking for me soon.”

He stared down at you, pupil-less eyes without emotion. Your scalp began to burn and after a few seconds you had to shift your weight to relieve some of the pull. It made your upper stomach rub against his crotch. Not at all your intention. But you knew you’d have to touch him eventually.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t do shit at anyone else’s speed.” His hand released your hair, “Could be fun though…,” Valentino traced along your jaw with his tongue before squeezing your cheeks in his hand, “fucking Alastor’s woman.”

He was off you as quickly as he had pounced, makeshift jacket swirling behind him as he spun around and walked to the door you’d seen before.

Another glance at the television. You had 10 minutes before Alastor would be calling. A small panic that you didn’t have enough time. 

Alastor rarely called on you, because rarely were you very far away. He didn’t have you on a leash, you just enjoyed his company. You’d scroll on your phone while he worked in his radio station  or read a book while he enjoyed his breakfast in the morning. 

Also, well, going out alone could be intimidating. People swung from two extremes when they saw you— excited fan or terrified sinner. 

The fans knew you were with Alastor. 

The other sinners knew you were with Alastor. 

The DVD incident had spooked you, not helped by the fact it had been your first outing. Alastor had been eager, even if he didn’t say it, to introduce you to the cannibal overlord. 

Having you back in his presence brought a deep seated sense of calm to him, one best compared to the feeling he had when gossiping with Rosie over coffee. Naturally he wanted his closest friend to meet the soul who’d stolen his attention. And Rosie was delighted to meet you, evident with the extravagant tea (and a singular coffee)  she set up and her litany of questions.

But every time she asked something she also seemed to answer it herself.

“Are you happy to be together again in your body?! I’m sure you are.” She offered you a finger you had to decline. 

“I bet you two have been busy.” A wink, “Though you must have been for it to take so long to get down here.”

Alastor shrunk a little as she smacked at his shoulder. You hadn’t seen him allow others to touch him before. Had that been Angel, the second one of his many arms cocked back Alastor would have stepped away or disappeared. Just a hit and you could see how close they were.

You made a point of befriending her, coming often after that initial meeting to her shop for gossip and advice. As time went on, you began to learn about Alastor’s normal. It was nice to have a mutual friend to discuss your worries and ideas with. 

“And oh! That video. Talk about hot under the collar!”, a petite laugh, “Did you see it?” Rosie waited for you to answer this time. When you shook your head no, she waved her hand, “For the best. The climax was totally unwatchable!”

You turned to Alastor, not sure what that meant, but he didn’t meet your gaze and instead slowly blinked out of sync at the bookshelves behind Rosie’s shoulder. 

“Did you know he’s not into all that?” She took a sip, “You better be patient with him ya got it?”

That question caught you off guard. Apparently for him too, Alastor coming back to life at the change of tone, “This isn’t really a tea topic, dear friend.”

Rosie hummed, “Where are my manners! I was just so relieved he didn’t up and leave for another seven years.” 

What’s a scowl shared between friends?

But shared between whatever you and Val were…?

Valentino’s wings unfurled revealing long fishnet covered legs. You watched as he swayed his hips side to side on his way to the bed. The same bed as before. You remembered the shape and purple comforter that you could see down your blindfold.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to already be undressed.” Where were his pants and button up? This was moving faster than you’d anticipated. 

He turned back to you as he plopped down onto the bed, “What I wear isn’t any of your business. Though, speaking of business.” He pointed to the corner, a part of the room you’d never seen before. A camera on a tripod stood there. “Turn it on.”

Your grimace was immediate. “You sure you wanna film this one?”

Impatient, he crossed his legs and leaned back on two hands, “Did you think you could just come in here, ask to fuck me and … what? It’d be all on your terms?”

Yes. 

You’d worn a dress expressly for ease, and slipped off your panties before going to the camera. For some reason you didn’t want that recorded. It seemed embarrassing. More so than what you were about to do.

Val’s turn to gawk, “You’re seriously not planning on staying dressed.”

“What I wear isn’t any of your business.” You opened the view screen and hit record.

His laugh was dark and deep, “Ooh, I forgot how feisty you were. Maybe this can be a recurring thing.”

Ignoring the comment, you tried to take in the details of the room, checking the walls and small bits of furniture. But you were immensely distracted by the moth demon, who had taken to spreading his legs open and running a hand down his barely contained bulge. Tiny, little, itty black thong, fishnets, nipple chain and… well, the hat. 

Two arms pulled you by the waist, hands gripping the flesh of your ass through the dress. 

“Why are you dressed like you’re off to teach Sunday school?” His hands slipped under the fabric and dug into your bare skin. He glanced at the camera and its small monitor to make sure he was in frame.

Your knees were brought to either side of his legs before he began to open his stance wider and wider. The action lowered your center more and more until your naked heat was resting on his package. Things were speeding up, he was moving you around so effortlessly. A problem, an absolute problem.

“Ya know I haven’t had a believable good girl to break in awhile.” His hips rose of the bed suddenly and made you bounce on his growing erection. Val groaned, a sound that made your skin crawl. 

In the reflection of his glasses you saw the white face of a marble clock on the wall behind you. 

“Could we—- can we do this lying down? Missionary? It’s been awhile and I’m feeling insecure.” The thought of the overpowering demon towering on top of you and pinning you down was… a tad terrifying. But you needed to see the clock, you couldn’t keep turning around. 

A brief thought, maybe just turning around on his lap and staying facing away from him would work, but then you remembered the camera. Didn’t need your now-rising dress to give the Vees anything exploitative to keep.

Not that everyone in all nine rings hadn’t already seen you spread open and screaming on camera.

“Actually maybe it’s okay, I can,” turn around? Your suggestion was cut short.

Val lifted you like a toy and flipped around. Your head hit the bed hard, brain jostling in your skull. One hand instinctively came to his chest to keep some distance. “No, I like this better.” A wide grin as he settled between your legs.

You leaned to the right to see the clock past his shoulder. Five minutes.

Why didn’t you wear a watch? Fuck.

He dropped his lower half onto you until his full weight was pressing his half hard cock into your stomach. Your breath tightened, running out of moveable space to expand your lungs and diaphragm.

“I wanna see you squirm.” Pink smoke was blown directly into your face, catching you off guard. But, where was the cigarette? You didn’t see it…

Your muscles went loose, the stress of the moment washing away. Both of your hands came to the center of your chest and pressed down. Security. Readiness.

Four minutes.

Alastor didn’t like you having a phone but he didn’t stop you from owning one. You had assumed you’d be on the set where you knew there would be some way to keep track of the time. Or else you’d have just worn a dress with pockets to carry a cellphone. Maybe set a timer.

You weren’t sure about Alastor’s disdain for tech until you witnessed it yourself. That square headed stalker flitting from screen to screen, riding the wires and the radio waves. He had warned you about the Vees, about Vox in particular. He didn’t have much to say about Velvette, and somehow that was better than the nothing he had to say about Valentino. 

As Val’s tongue slid up your neck, you thought about Angel. A confidant. You wished he had asked Alastor to kill Val, as a thank you for his efforts in reuniting you two. And, now that you remembered, uniting you at all. 

Instead he asked for a bigger room. Large enough for two to comfortably cohabitate.

Alastor maybe couldn’t kill Val, but he could try. When you brought it up with him he was upset. He didn’t like his name being spoken at all unless absolutely necessary 

An inadvertent moan you didn’t realize came from you until Valentino chuckled at the sound.

“Feeling it?” He cooed. You weren’t sure which it he meant. This wasn’t going quite to plan. 

Three minutes.

So much could happen in three minutes. Too much. He slid down his underwear, sitting up and letting you see him in his full glory.

Why did he have to be such a bad man?

Many men who carried big sticks were unkind. Between their legs or between their fingers. 

Alastor was an exception to the rule. 

Things did calm down for Alastor after you returned, eventually. Alastor’s desperate need was soothed with you in hell again. His appetite dying. But he hungered in new ways. Ways you hadn’t anticipated to fill your cup so full. Long and intense kisses where his hands dragged down your body and he sighed into your cheeks. You were often pulled into his side and under his arm when sharing the sofa. Soft pets to your hair as you fell asleep. 

And when you felt the need, and if he wasn’t feeling up to it, he’d lie beside you and whisper into your ear. Talking soft and low about all the ways you stole his heart and mind while his hand pumped those long fingers in and out of your own needy pussy. He’d grin into the nape of your neck when you were incapable of keeping your voice down any longer. A feeling you’d come to need. 

You didn’t need a cock to be full. And by the look of Val’s twitching monster, you’d be broken before he bottomed out.

His thumbs pulled apart your bottom lips, “Ready to spread you open so wide you won’t even feel that lanky fuck in you.” 

His third and fourth hands pushed your thighs open and back, hands you could swear felt familiar. Alastor? Or before him?

You struggled to regain focus, your fingers feeling at your bra.

Two minutes.

Legs suddenly too weak to resist, or perhaps Val too strong. Or, a third option, you weren’t trying so hard. Behind his fingers was left a burn on your skin.

“Closer.” Your lips were tingling, it felt good.

“I need you closer.”

His wide chest grew prideful, “Oh? If you’re looking for love you’re in the wrong bed, princesa.”

“No love. Chest. I can’t reach your chest.” You struggled to sit up, but managed to grab the chain connecting his pierced nipples before falling back into the bed.

A screech, a squeak, “Fuck! Watch how you handle that.” His voice rose several octaves. God, you hated him. 

You gripped the chain tightly, the feeling keeping you a little grounded. “Oops.” A whirlpool was behind your eyes, all five senses mingling and amplifying. This was dangerous. He hadn’t used this aphrodisiac on you before…maybe he had liked how much you thrashed when he tied you up and mocked you.  

His length ran up your core and you jumped. He was so hot. So…. Firm.

No. Too close.

One minute.

You had told Alastor you wouldn’t let it go too far. He said he’d not stop you, because you had said you needed to do it. But you could see the conflict behind his own gaze. What would he do if you returned smelling of Val? Dripping of him? 

Almost. Just a few more seconds. His body rolled into you, rocking you with the motion. Every passing had his cock from slit to balls sliding between your wildly wet folds. 

Timing was key for your safety. Though Alastor had made it clear you could always just bail and wait for his call.

The more Val rubbed and pressed against you you felt your mind melt a little more. Surely it would slip down your spine at this rate. 

A brief worry in the pleasurable fog, what if later on you remembered the pleasure and felt guilty? Guilty to Alastor but most importantly to yourself, for gasping and sighing under the abusive trash that dragged you to hell to begin with.

And what if you didn’t? 

Which was worse?

Which would be easier to live with?

He prodded your inner thigh. He was getting closer and closer to actually entering you.

30 seconds.

“Do you remember my promise?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” His head was hung as he stared between your bodies. He didn’t see you reach between your breasts into your bra and pull out the Carmine angelic dagger Husk had recommended to Alastor. You hadn’t been quiet about your plans.

“Odd, it’s on recording. Maybe you didn’t realize I was talking to you.” As you moved the dagger from your right side to bury it into Valentino’s chest you remembered the man in the woods. The young man at work. Angel. Here you were again. But if this ended the same as the woods, where would you go? Would Alastor be able to reach you?

“My promise to fucking kill you.”

Valentino keeled back, hand raised to slash your throat out when a green light momentarily blinded him. The sound of chains filled the room as you disappeared into nothingness underneath him. He was left slashing at his own duvet while he tried to slow the bleeding.

Alastor caught you as you fell from the portal he summoned you with. Two feet barely touching the floor as he set you in the reading chair in front of his fireplace.

He nodded at the drops of blood staining your cornflower yellow dress, “Was it a success?”

Your body slipped down the chair, dress getting caught in the friction and riding up. He leaned over and tugged it back down to hide your exposed sex.  You were too far gone to feel deja vu.

“No, I think he’s alive. He drugged me with that smoke.” Your legs were spread wide, trying to keep your weight from slipping off the chair. “I was too weak.”

Alastor sat in the chair opposite and took in the scene. Hair messy, legs open, face flush. Bloodied and breathless.

Pride ran a shiver up his spine. His doe’s second murder attempt. While he has despised the idea he couldn’t pretend he didn’t love the initiative. 

“Hey, I know you said you wouldn’t ask.” You crossed your legs at the ankle, which did nothing to stop the way the air that was rising up your dress and cooling your core. “But I didn’t fuck him.”

Alastor shrugged, “As they say, all is fair in love and war. I would understand if you did for the sake of killing him. What’s a little sex if it helps murder?”

Your hand slipped down your chest, a ghostly trail in its wake like your touch had an echo. “What a terrible way to confess you love me.”

A choked cough from the radio demon.

Your eyes slipped close. Relaxed. “I feel good.”

He hummed.

“Not from the stabbing, from the stuff in his smoke. My body is thrumming. Is my heart pounding?” You tried to stand but ended up on your knees, cheek coming to rest on his inner leg. As he leaned forward to let his hand enter your dress and rest above your heart, his face got close to yours.

“It’s frantic.” A low whisper into the shell of your ear. Pulling back he paused at your face to lick an errant drop of blood. “You reek of him.”

“He did lick me a couple times.” You watched Alastor sneer, “And he was naked, like, immediately. Oh! Oh fuck,” your head popped up with a renewed clarity, “He recorded it.”

Alastor stilled, he wasn’t thinking about the recording aspect. He was thinking on your heart, on how flushed your skin was, the sweat dripping down your neck. On the thought of Val’s tongue over your skin. “The medicine— or drug you were exposed to,” a deep breath in, “What does it feel like?”

A topic change you hadn’t expected, your body slouched into his leg, arm over his thigh for support. His eyes on your face as they always were when you were in the room. 

“Like my body is… illuminescent. Every time my clothes or something touches me, my skin lights up and my brain gets so quiet.” His palm stayed on your heart. 

“Hmm,” His hands slipped under your arm, lifting you up. Your feet were entirely off the ground now as he carried you like a dirty cat on its way to the bath. Gently, you were set onto the bed. A lovely juxtaposition.

“Every time I touch where he did, tell me.” Alastor kneeled beside you, deft fingers unbuttoning your dress. A sharp claw popped under the center of your bra and sliced through the fabric.

Your body was humming again, Val’s powerful aphrodisiac lifting up from your senses like dust under heavy footsteps. 

Goosebumps formed up your arms as the back of his fingers traced along the outside of your forearm. As he curved up your shoulder and reached your neck you breathed out a low, “There.”

You watched him lean down, warm lips kissing at your skin. A series of kisses as soft and needy as the ones he often placed on your own mouth. A shudder turned nearly violent as his hot tongue ran up your neck to your jaw.

His nose slid up your cheek, “There.” Kisses to your face, across your nose and to the other side.

He pulled back, eyes lusty and heavy lidded. He didn’t say anything, but his grim smile asked you something. You nodded, running your hands down your chest and to your thighs.

A growl you hadn’t heard in so long rumbled in his chest. He rolled you onto your stomach and pulled the dress off entirely, nails raking along your spine until they dimpled the soft fat of your ass.

“There.”

Alastor straddled you at the back of your knees. You wanted to squirm but your muscles had gone weak again. He nipped at the mounds of flesh, massaging and squeezing after every particularly sharp bite. What little part of your brain could form coherent thoughts was trying to piece together an alarm— his face was so close to your still soaking wet entrance. 

Images bubbled up where words were failing. Val’s large cock head smearing precum up your slit.

His hands roamed down your legs and feet before turning you back to face him. When you could finally see his expression again, you were surprised to see a look he hadn’t given in so long.

Needy. Desperation screamed through knitted brows, hazy eyes, and a weak smile threatening to fall flat.

As his hands slid down your stomach and reached the junction of your thighs, you started to register the little moans you were making.

But it was getting harder to hear past the radio static and pounding heartbeat in your ears.

Soft fingers traveled between your closed thighs, you hesitated before offering what you thought was a quiet, “There.”

You couldn’t hear yourself think let alone speak as the sounds both in and outside your body grew louder with every signal he’d found a new spot to cover up.

His knees pushed open your left thigh, then your right. Lowering himself, he hitched your knees and lied flat on his stomach. A bite to your inner thigh, nearly the back. A suck, sharp and strong, that ended with a pop as he released.

Nose inching closer and closer to your core, Alastor could see your hole clenching. A dribble of the evidence of your arousal being forced out and down the cleft of your ass.

You heard and felt his breathing quicken, when a finger slid down your folds you couldn’t stop the raise of your hips.

“There.”

The lights went out with a pop. Shaky breaths as his tongue swiped from entrance to clit. Lick after lick to your center like he was trying to make you clean again. Another moan you were only sure was yours cut through the now biting static that filled the air around you.

Your mind tried to piece together a sentence, “Crazy stuff… it had me so horny”, your hands ran up your chest without thinking, “I was almost hoping Val would put it in before time was gone.”

The static cut. Not even the sound of the fireplace or the crickets in the swamp portaled into his room were present anymore. 

“Isn’t that insane? Have you ever heard of such a drug?” Your eyes had closed, feeling his breath wafting down your saliva coated lips. “Alastor?”

He was being honest when he said he’d not hold it against you. But he hadn’t even considered a situation where you wanted more to happen. Than had been discussed. The very idea of Valentino mixing with you brought bile to his throat.

The drug was to blame and he could understand that, as a man. But as an overlord, as something more akin to animal in some aspects, he had the clawing urge to reclaim you. To write over even the thought of wanting to feel Valentino.

“My darling little doe, I think you need a reminder of just how much of you I possess. And the parts of me you own in turn.” 

You looked down to see glowing eyes from between your legs, his fingers snapped and while you couldn’t see what was happening past the light of his eyes, you could hear the VHS player click and then a small, “Aunt Sara….” whispered in a familiar voice.  

“I don’t understand what’s happened….”

It took a moment to register it was your own voice you were hearing from the darkness. 

“Aunt Sara isn’t here.” 

Alastor’s acting debut crowing from the old TV beside his bayou door. His eyes shifted with a blink from glowing red to black, just sharp dials visible in the shadow of his face.

“She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.”

The prongs of a buck ready to clash over his territory creaked past your open thighs.

“But I want more than that. I need more than that.”

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon n , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

[lovelyhan]

— caught in the middle ⟢

mingyu knows. he’s perfectly aware that his best friend’s girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader x mingyu

★ WORD COUNT; 15.8k words

★ TAGS; established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), fluff, mild angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ WARNINGS; mentions of twitter porn, sex tapes, mentions of infidelity (there's none of that here though), lots of guilt-ridden thoughts on gyu's end

★ NOTES; i'm literally several days late but happiest birthday to the man i enjoy writing for wayyyy too much, wonwoo <3 it's been four months since i last revisited the streamer series, and i'm glad to finally make good on that teaser i left in the second part :]

★ BEFORE YOU READ; i highly recommend reading the first two stories in the series first bc as much as i wanted to let readers consume this as a standalone, context is still really important for the story i want to tell!

this is part of the game over series!

★ SMUT TAGS; oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, daddy kink, pet names (puppy for gyu), threesome, spitroasting, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @ldkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt

★ MINGYU & WONWOO TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @emmmui - @swinterr - @wolfhardbby - @scandal-in-bohemia

★ FIC/SERIES TAGLIST; @ressonancee - @smooore - @wave2love - @jjongjjongiesworld - @mimi14berrybear - @hanniebanggi - @havetaeminforbreakfast - @slut4donghyuck - @delulu4-life - @aurumness - @mingyucookies - @noonareads - @hafuunkjw - @strxbrymilkkuu

part one - part two - part three - part four

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. 

Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. 

And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found. 

How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

“Mingyu, you’re dragging your ass a lot today,” Seungcheol’s voice sounds pissed through his headphones and Mingyu can’t exactly fault him for it. Not when he ended up making their team lose their third Valorant match in a row. “The hell’s up with you? I thought you already practiced using Gekko with Vernon the other day.”

“We did and he was actually pretty good,” the younger man comments. “Dunno what suddenly got into him today though.”

“Cheol-hyung, you shouldn’t berate Mingyu when you royally sucked at using Neon during the time she was first released,” Wonwoo quips.

Seungcheol immediately makes a disgruntled noise at that. “I did not royally suck! She just doesn’t fit my playstyle. And I get that you guys are glued to the hip at this point, but you of all people should know when to call out your teammates especially if they’re being a bunch of noobs, Wonwoo.”

“Now, now, didn’t we already talk about this? No fighting when we’re only doing a bunch of scrimmages between friends.” 

A less abrasive voice flits into the call and Mingyu finds himself relaxing into his seat as he stares at the glowing red DEFEAT screen on his monitor. Ever since you and Wonwoo finally dropped the act of hating each other and started dating, you’ve constantly mediated any petty arguments that sparked within their group. Mingyu is all sorts of grateful, but also just a tad bit embarrassed whenever he’s part of the argument in question.

“Yeah, what she said,” Wonwoo agrees with a huff. 

“Whatever, man. Koyahngi has watered down your temper so much, it makes me look like the most easily tilted player on the team,” Seungcheol grumbles before adding, “Ugh. Couples.”

Vernon laughs softly. “Crazy how you’re the one who always insisted for Wonwoo-hyung to be kinder, but now that he is, you suddenly want him to go back to his trash-talking ways.”

“Now why’s everyone dogpiling me now!” the older man whines.

About half an hour and another lost match later, everyone decides to call it a day. Seungcheol and Vernon are going to hold a joint stream together and Mingyu needs to get ready for another modeling gig he managed to land a couple of days ago. He’s not sure what you and Wonwoo have in store for the day, but his best friend and roommate mentioned that you were going to drop by their apartment sometime today. 

But when Mingyu finally deigned to grab a towel and head to the bathroom, he instead makes a detour to the couch with a desolate sigh. He unlocks his phone and opens the Twitter app like it was second nature, tapping on the button that pulls up his most recent searches.  

goodcat_badcat

He absentmindedly types the username to an account that’s been his constant companion whenever he needed to let off some steam. Though he hasn’t checked her profile in a while, Mingyu was under the impression that goodcat_badcat would still be there to give him a hand especially when his schedule has been driving him insane these days. 

But when the app redirects him to the main profile, the same words that greeted him when he woke up with his painfully hard morning wood stare back at him. Something went wrong. Try again.

She deactivated. His favorite Twitter porn girl is fucking gone and now he’s got nothing but despair and the bluest balls in the entire city. 

“Hey.”

Mingyu jolts at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice, immediately locking his phone before tossing it on the other side of the couch as if it burned him. He’s quick to whirl around to greet him with a too-wide smile.

“Hyung, what’s up?” Mingyu asks, thanking the heavens that his voice didn’t crack.

His best friend looks at him weirdly. “Uh, do you have any plans today? We’re going out to go bowling today and she told me to ask if you wanted to come along.”

Bowling. Wonwoo sucks at bowling, but you managed to rope him into going with you anyways. 

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a shoot in…” Mingyu’s voice falters before reaching for the phone he just tossed away—heart dropping to his stomach when he looks at the time. “Shit. Forty minutes.”

He doesn’t wait for Wonwoo’s response before bounding towards the bathroom with a towel in hand.

The part-time model hasn’t gotten ready faster in his entire life. Though his manager told him that the brand he’s shooting for this time isn’t strict with time, Mingyu doesn’t want to make it a habit to show up late for his commitments. 

Streamers already have a bad enough image to those who aren’t part of the industry, and he wants to make it a point that not every single one of them is a slob who doesn’t shower and makes tardiness a way of life.

As he pulls on a snapback over his still-damp hair—opting to let the stylists on the set handle it for him instead—he faintly hears your voice outside of his bedroom door. 

“Aww, he isn’t coming?”

“Yeah. Let’s just invite him next time,” Wonwoo’s muffled response manages to reach his ears as well.

With one last glance in the mirror, Mingyu hoists his bag across his shoulder before opening the door to his room. He spots you seated on the armrest of their couch, kicking your legs somewhat adorably before you meet his gaze with surprise.

For someone who’s supposed to be bowling today, you don’t really look the part. Of course, your signature Koyahngi cat ear headband is sitting on top of your head, as in-theme as always. You also paired up your short, pleated skirt with lace-trimmed thigh highs, and chunky white boots. Not to mention the sheer, low cut top that gives him an ample view of your cleavage… 

“Gyu, do you have a photoshoot today or something?” Your question promptly snaps him out of his somewhat rude staring. “Here I thought we could team up and destroy Wonwoo together in the bowling alley.”

“As if I’d allow that,” his best friend scoffs. “Mingyu’s teaming up with me, princess. Then you’ll be crying like a loser while we get ourselves a victory treat from the snackbar.”

“We are not going to do that, and yeah, I have a photoshoot…that I’m already late for actually,” Mingyu replies with a bubble of laughter. “That’s okay. You and Wonwoo-hyung have fun. Pro-tip, he actually sucks at bowling, so you’ll score much better than he will.” 

You giggle before getting back on your feet, making your way over to Mingyu faster than he can prepare himself for. He hasn’t quite noticed it as vividly as he does now, but you’re so much smaller than him—even with the added inches of your boots. 

It doesn’t help that the way you’re cutely looking up at Mingyu with those pretty doe eyes as you examine his outfit is making sweat bead across his temples. Great.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re heading to a shoot though,” you laugh. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you? Who’s the lucky guy or gal? Why’d you dress up like Tadashi Hamada just to impress them?”

Wonwoo snorts. “You mean the guy who died in Big Hero 6?”

“Well, yeah, but he was also my childhood crush, so shut up, Wonwoo.”

Your childhood crush. Mingyu looks like your childhood crush. 

As Mingyu watches you bicker with his roommate—your boyfriend and his best friend—he realizes something that could change the trajectory of this friendship altogether.

He might have a crush on someone he isn’t supposed to want.

Like any other sane person out there, Mingyu does his best to brush it off.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s been fleetingly attracted to people who are taken before and it wouldn’t last for more than a few days before he gets over it. 

Mingyu simply chalks this up to hormones. After all, it was one thing to see your promiscuous outfits on streams, but it’s another to constantly be around you in those…rather unique get-ups. As degenerate as it sounds, he is just a man. Though he definitely won’t make a move on his best friend’s girl just because you like to show up to their apartment in short skirts and tight crop tops, he can’t help the physical reaction your presence evokes from him.

Which is his exact dilemma right now.

“Nonu, you got a silencer on you?” you mutter with your feet propped up on the coffee table—eyes glued to your phone while the three of you played a new mobile-based battle royale game in the living room. “I found a shotgun. Can you drop it for—Fuck!”

Wonwoo hums beside you, glancing at your screen for only a moment before focusing on his own character. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone fucking killed me with a Type 25!” 

Your boyfriend simpers. “That’s what you get for talking to me and not focusing on the game, princess.”

“I just remembered how much I hate you.” 

With sulkiness in your strides, you get up from the couch before plopping yourself on the armrest of the lazyboy Mingyu’s currently occupying. He startles at your sudden switch in seats—eyes darting between you and his phone before he tells himself to focus or he’ll get wiped off the map in a blink of an eye too.

“Gyu, can you do me a favor and just let Wonwoo die if he needs help?” you coo, wrapping your arms around his bare bicep. “Teach the fucker the importance of teamwork?”

Wonwoo laughs crudely from his spot on the couch. “What happened to ‘no fighting during scrims between friends’ huh?”

“That rule doesn’t apply when I’m the one being antagonized.”

Mingyu is a little busy evading a sniper that’s trying to take him out, but he does hear Wonwoo mutter, fucking brat, under his breath. He doesn’t pay it any mind—quite used to this back-and-forth dynamic between the both of you, even before you made it official. 

The rest of the round goes on for another ten or-so minutes. As if the gods answered your call, Wonwoo gets done in by a grenade, leaving Mingyu the only surviving member of your three-man team. 

“Uhhh, sniper—two o’clock,” you point out, leaning closer to his screen all while pressing your tits against his arm. Mingyu lets himself think it’s not intentional. “That’s the asshole who killed me! You’ll avenge me, won’t you Gyugyu?”

God. He hasn’t even gotten used to you calling him Gyu and now you’ve suddenly got another adorable nickname up your sleeve? 

But back to the sniper. He’s a little too far away for Mingyu to make quick work of and the only weapons he’s got equipped are close range. From what he can see on the kill counter, only three players remain and Mingyu just has to pray that the sniper and whoever else is left aren’t teammates and—

The flash animation of a sniper rifle going off illuminates part of his screen. The kill counter ticks up to 48 out of 50 players dead. 

Mingyu doesn’t waste any more time.

You’re practically shouting into his ear as he rushes to ambush the sniper on the second floor, clutching his arm tightly as you dish out helpful words of advice. (There’s a bomb in that stairwell. Chase him on the other side!) 

The game ends in a sound victory for your team when Mingyu manages to kill off the sniper with close range combat. Despite the added flourish to your reigning rank and win rates, you still tease him about how he fumbled with his weapon stash during those last few seconds—bringing out a molotov instead of a pistol like he initially intended. The six foot gamer argues that it was just the nerves and the fact that you were pressing your perky breasts into the curve of his muscles, but you don’t really have to know that last bit.

Mingyu gets so into it that he fails to notice the way his best friend’s eyes linger on him and his girlfriend for a beat longer than usual, nor is he privy to the way Wonwoo’s lips twist into a sordid smirk.

After borrowing some of Wonwoo’s clothes, you end up staying over for dinner—even going out of your way to help Mingyu in the kitchen as he whips up some kimbap for everyone in the house. Wonwoo at least has the decency to set the table while you two are busy doing the brunt of the work in preparing food and once everything is in place, you and Mingyu share a quick high five. 

“We actually make a good team, huh?” you snicker.

Mingyu feels his neck prickle with heat. “Guess you can say that.”

Once your stomachs are full and the dishes are washed and put away, Wonwoo puts on a thriller on the TV. You’re still pouting because of his shitty behavior during the game, but you ultimately choose to snuggle up next to your boyfriend despite.

It’s in rare moments like this where Mingyu truly gets to observe you and Wonwoo past the dynamic you both like to parade around other people. Your fiery personalities have been tempered into something calmer. Something he’d dare to call safe. 

No snide comments, no senseless bickering—only tangled limbs under a weighted blanket, snuggling yourself deeper into your boyfriend’s chest, and looking up at him with sleepy but loving eyes. 

So here’s Mingyu’s predicament: you’re ridiculously attractive but also ridiculously in love with his best friend. 

“Mingyu.”

He blinks up in surprise when he notices Wonwoo standing in front of Mingyu’s lazyboy, carrying you in his arms as you doze softly into his chest. The sight makes his heart twist with a kind of fondness that he was never meant to feel for you.

“Hm?” Mingyu tries to sound as casual as he can manage—forcing his eyes on the TV and away from your vulnerable form. “Guess she’s sleeping over, huh?”

His best friend hums. “I was supposed to drive her home before meeting Soonyoung and the others to grab drinks. But she hates it when I wake her up after she falls asleep like this.”

Mingyu nods. “Okay.”

“And she also hates waking up in the middle of the night all alone,” Wonwoo adds. “Which is where you come in.”

There’s a long pause in their conversation that makes Mingyu hyper aware of the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep in Wonwoo’s arms. You really are out cold—too deep into slumber to have any awareness of what the two men are even discussing.

“What?” Mingyu whispers, unable to pay attention to the main character walking into her doom on the television screen. “What do you mean that’s where I come into the picture? Don’t tell me you’re still going out for drinks when your sulky girlfriend’s asleep in our house.”

“It’s only for an hour or two,” Wonwoo explains before padding over to Mingyu’s—yes, Mingyu’s bedroom—before gently laying you down on the bed and pulling his blanket across your dozing form. “We’re actually meeting with our manager so I can’t talk myself out of the schedule even if I really fucking want to.”

The disbelief is still evident on Mingyu’s face. “So you’re putting me in charge of babysitting her until you come back?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Gyu. You’re just gonna sleep next to her, not clean up after her shit.”

Somehow, the fact that Wonwoo’s practically giving Mingyu permission to do that sounds more daunting than the latter. He’s much too busy gawking at the older man to give him a proper response right away.

Is this really the same guy who personally tells the perverts in your stream’s chat to fuck off when they’re being out of line? The guy who always has an arm wrapped possessively around your waist whenever you’re all out with your friends?

“Do I have a choice?” Mingyu sighs.

“If you want to deal with her all pissed off after waking up alone, then be my guest.”

“This wouldn’t be even an issue if you just did a rain check!” 

“You know I’d do anything to keep her happy if I could, right?”

The pleading tone of Wonwoo’s voice takes Mingyu aback for half a moment before he gets his bearings straight. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him, how your boyfriend treats you like a goddamn princess. No matter how much you rile each other up where everyone can see, at the end of the day, Wonwoo is still the type of lover who puts great value in the smallest things. 

The guy takes your fucking napping habits into consideration when making decisions between his personal life and his career. Even going out of his way to inconvenience his own best friend just so you wouldn’t wake up all alone. 

If that isn’t love, Mingyu doesn’t know what is.

“Fine,” Mingyu relents. “Just make sure you’ll be back in two hours or else I’ll call your manager and tell him the apartment caught fire.”

Wonwoo flicks him painfully on the forehead as he walks back to the living room, making Mingyu roll back onto the cushions with a groan. “Don’t crack jokes like that when my girlfriend’s over at our place.”

“Wow.” Mingyu scowls. “So it’s okay for the apartment to go up in flames if I’m alone?”

His best friend doesn’t even hesitate. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Thirty minutes later, Wonwoo has already left for his evening plans and Mingyu is left to clean the leftover snacks off the coffee table as the end credits roll on the TV. The door to his bedroom has been left ajar so he can at least keep an eye on you in his peripheral while he tidies up. 

He’s supposed to do a chill, late night stream, but seeing as his room has another occupant this evening, he might have to go on Twitter to let his subscribers know about the change in schedules. But that would leave Mingyu with nothing else to do aside from going to bed early. 

Meaning, he’d have to lie next to you. On his bed.

Mingyu immediately shoots the idea down, plopping himself back on the sofa all while trying not to glance in the general direction of his room.

This is fine. This is okay. There’s nothing remotely wrong about his best friend’s girlfriend sleeping on his bed even if Wonwoo could’ve just dumped you in his own room instead. He could just play a few games on his PS5 until you woke up on your own or until Wonwoo comes back from his night out. Whichever happens first.

So that’s exactly what Mingyu does. 

About an hour of playing through where he left off in his last Elden Ring save file, he’s so engrossed in the cutscene that he doesn’t notice you rising from the comfort of his bed—rubbing your eyes as you look around the room you’re in with mild confusion. 

Just when the next boss fight begins, Mingyu is promptly spooked when the cushions dip beneath the weight of another person, letting out an undignified yelp as his eyes dart to the unknown figure wrapping their arms around his bicep—

Then he realizes it’s you.

“Eepy…” you mumble, eyes still drooping as you nuzzle his arm.

Mingyu scowls for a moment. Did you just say eepy? 

Fuck, that’s so cute, he muses to himself before forcing his gaze back on the TV before Godrick the Grafted could cleave Mingyu’s character in half with a giant axe. 

The daunting in-game OST coupled with the jarring sound-effects of weapons clashing together probably isn’t the best thing to wake up to, but with how you quietly bury yourself in the warmth of his body, Mingyu figures that you probably don’t mind. 

He isn’t sure if you’ve decided to continue your nap or watch whatever he’s doing on the screen, given that he’s dedicated much of his attention span in trying not to get killed. But despite having been in the same position as other girls he’s dated before—them clinging to his arm as he plays through some gory open-world RPG—it’s the first time Mingyu has ever felt nervous. 

Maybe it’s because you’re a streamer yourself that he doesn’t have it in him to flex his superior gamer prowess like he usually does. But with that thought in mind, shouldn’t he be more inclined to show off? To brag about how he can dodge and parry the enemy’s coordinated attacks effortlessly when Wonwoo can’t even switch his healing items without fumbling with the controls? 

Then he remembers that tiny, minuscule crush he has. And the fact that the person he has that tiny, minuscule crush on is snuggling against him like a cat. 

Mingyu barely gets to the second phase of the boss fight without his head imploding from vertigo.

“That looks really…gross,” you murmur just when the next cutscene starts and Godrick the Grafted sticks his amputated arm into the corpse of a nearby dragon. So you are watching him play. “Is he trying to assimilate with it or something?” 

Mingyu offers up a soft hum. “He grafts his own body parts from other beings to get stronger, so…yeah.”

“Hm. So he’s using a dragon’s head to replace his missing arm?”

“You’re pretty clever for someone who just woke up.”

You huff. “For your information, I don’t just play cutesy games all the time. Who do you think finished Wonwoo’s save file for Dark Souls 3? 

Mingyu simpers as he jumps out of the way of Godrick’s flamethrower. “You? Playing Dark Souls, of all things? You don’t have to lie to impress me, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

Before he can let out a teasing laugh, you promptly yank the controller out of Mingyu’s hands—making your boyfriend’s best friend scowl as you take over the boss fight he can very much overcome on his own.

You don’t say a single word as you finish off what’s left of Godrick’s HP bar with more finesse than he’d expect for someone he thought only fucked around on Stardew Valley and Genshin Impact. Your eyes are completely glued on the TV, not even second-guessing the buttons you’re mashing. Mingyu can only watch in quiet awe when the boss belts out his death voicelines, fading into ashes as the ending cutscene comes to a close.

Then, you glance over at Mingyu with a smug look and if he thought he couldn’t be any more infatuated by you, he’s dead wrong.

“Maybe I should start playing games like this on my streams so people like you would start taking me seriously,” you flare before tossing the controller back onto his lap. “But then again I shouldn’t really give a shit about what others think about me.”

There’s a sharpness in your words that makes Mingyu think that it wasn’t just a baseless retort to his earlier jab. That makes him frown.

“What do you mean?” he wonders.

He half-expects you to trade that frown on your face with a sleazy grin in a gotcha moment he’s been unknowingly anticipating. That you’d wave away the seriousness of it all with your cheeky laughter before you’re back to watching him play again. 

But it doesn’t come.

You sink further into the couch with a sigh, crossing your arms together as you prop your legs on the coffee table. The fact that you’re wearing nothing but Wonwoo’s shirt makes Mingyu instinctively lead his eyes away from the way the hem rides up your thighs. 

“Nothing. Just go back to playing your stupid game.”

Unfortunately for you, Mingyu is having none of it. “Hey, I get that I said something that pissed you off and I’m sorry. But…do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” 

“Well…whatever’s bothering you.” 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I swear. I’m just feeling a little cranky.”

Oh. Right. Wonwoo mentioned how you hated waking up alone after naps. Well, technically, you weren’t alone. His bedroom door was still wide open when he started playing in the living room, but then again he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to tell what counts as waking up alone and what doesn’t.

“Should I call Wonwoo-hyung?” 

“And have him tease me to the ends of the earth when I’m already in a bad mood?” you scoff. “Pass.”

Mingyu considers his options for a moment. You’ve always been quite bubbly and energetic when you’re over at their apartment. This is probably the first time he’s seen you act so grumpy and it’s been a while since he’s dealt with moody girlfriends so he isn’t sure what to make of the situation. 

But then a lone thought wanders inside his head.

“Do you…want to go back to bed?”

He wonders if it’s a stupid question. You’re very much awake now that he accidentally tripped on the proverbial land mine that is your emotional disposition. Mingyu is already expecting you to decline, but the hard lines on your faces suddenly soften. 

Then, with a quiet and considerably less disgruntled voice:

“I’d like that. Yeah.”

Maybe he should’ve worded his offer better. 

By ‘go back to bed’, Mingyu actually meant that he’d help you into Wonwoo’s room—into Wonwoo’s bed—because one: he’s your boyfriend; and two: given that you’re both planning to go to sleep for real, you wouldn’t have to wake up alone anymore since Wonwoo would already be home before morning. 

So why the fuck is he staring at the wall right next to his bed with your arm draped around his body as you dozed off behind him? Never mind that you were spooning a six-foot man with considerable body mass. You’re Wonwoo’s girlfriend. You’re not supposed to be sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend’s best friend.

But despite his warring thoughts, Mingyu doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t take any action to convince you to just sleep in Wonwoo’s room instead because that’s what’s right and proper, all things considered.

No, he just lets your hands dip beneath his shirt in your slumber, tracing the lines of his toned stomach every now and again. Mingyu tells himself it must be a habit you picked up from all the times you’ve slept right next to Wonwoo and that your body is just seeking that same kind of comfort in his absence.

You don’t have to know about how he feels himself grow hard when your pert nipples brush against his back every time you shift behind him.

And you definitely don’t have to know that he eventually peeled himself away from your heated embrace to jack himself off in the bathroom before retiring to the couch for the rest of the night.

It’s a secret that he simply has to take to his grave.

“Mingoo-yah, you’re spacing out again.”

Mingyu only feels half as bad as he should be for not listening to Jeonghan when the older man was in the middle of telling him about a brand collaboration offer he’s contemplating on accepting. Being the only two out of their friend group of thirteen to actively take up modeling gigs on the side, he’s close enough with Jeonghan to know he isn’t the kind of person who easily takes offense in things like that.

But one thing Mingyu does know about Jeonghan is that the older’s intuition is much too sharp for anyone’s liking.

“You’ve been inviting me out a lot lately,” Jeonghan remarks as he points the mouth of his beer bottle at Mingyu. “Are you trying to avoid something back at home? Is Wonwoo being an asshole to you?”

The lilt in his words clues Mingyu in on the fact that Jeonghan knows damn well that’s far from the reason that he’s been out of the apartment more frequently these days. He wonders if there’s any use to lying to someone who can see through any sort of farce before letting out a withering sigh.

“Hyung,” he starts, taking a sip out of his own beer as he chooses his words carefully. “Have you…ever wanted something you can’t have?”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Kim Mingyu? Not getting something he wants? My, all those ambassador offers and that long line of men and women alike doing everything they can for a chance to even speak with you would beg to differ.”

Yeah, but those people aren’t my best friend’s girlfriend, Mingyu wants to say but doesn’t, for obvious reasons. 

“You’re avoiding the question,” he whines instead.

Jeonghan lets out a soft chuckle before popping one of the bar’s complimentary corn chips into his mouth. “Well, to simply answer that: no. I’ve never wanted anything I can’t have because I always get what I want. All I need is to set my mind on having it and I’ll figure out the rest along the way.” 

“But what if… What if I ended up hurting someone if I pursued it?” Mingyu asks, trying his best to make the topic as ambiguous as possible. “That’s the last thing I want to do so the only way I can really deal with it is to just stop wanting it, you know?”

For a moment, Jeonghan doesn’t respond—lazy eyes trained on the younger man as he assesses what he’s been told. His gaze makes Mingyu a little nervous. Has he already ratted himself out? Has Jeonghan already put the pieces together in his head?

“From the way you’re going about all this, getting over it seems like a far cry into the future. And I’m well aware that you’re not a patient man, Mingyu,” he chortles with a shake of his head. “You’re understanding—considerate, even. But if I know you as well as I think I do, then there’s only so much endurance you can exercise when it comes to something you want that badly.

“If you want my advice, then I’ll go ahead and tell you to just negotiate with the person you’re supposedly going to hurt when you finally go after whatever this thing of yours is. If he declines, then you can walk away knowing you tried. If he agrees on some sort of…compromise, then wouldn’t that make you less miserable?”

God. Fuck. Talking to Jeonghan about this was probably the worst decision he’s made in his life. Mingyu wonders if he’d still be saying the same things if he knew exactly what—more precisely, who—they were even talking about. 

You’re at their apartment right now, probably snuggled up on the couch again—watching movies while engaging your boyfriend in occasional banter like you usually do. It’s a routine that the two of you have lulled yourselves into ever since you started dating and Mingyu would be a fucking dick for wanting to ruin that all because he can’t deal with the fact that he’s helplessly attracted to you. 

He can’t even sleep in his own goddamn bed without his brain going back to the night you lied so peacefully right next to him. Whenever his thoughts start to swim into dangerous territory, Mingyu tries so hard to suppress them by just going to sleep—only to end up fucking his painfully hard cock into his fist before coming all over the sheets with the taste of your name still sizzling on his tongue.

Later that night, a woman in a pretty black dress goes up to him and Jeonghan with a flirtatious strut that Mingyu would’ve latched onto if he was the same man he was a few months prior. She offers to buy them a few cocktails as a treat before leading Mingyu to the dark hallway that led to the dingy bathrooms with an expectant look in her sharply winged eyes. 

It doesn’t really take much to get him hard—he’s just a man after all. So when the woman whose name he knows she told him but promptly forgot gets on her knees on the dirty tiled floor, Mingyu thinks it’s perfectly normal for him to let her take his heavy length down her throat for some much needed relief.

What’s not normal is the way he pictures you in her place instead. That it was you deepthroating him like you were born without a gag reflex. You choking so adorably around his length as tears start to make your makeup run in gray streaks across your cheeks. You swallowing every last drop he spills into your awaiting mouth as he catches his breath against the bathroom door.

The woman was probably expecting some reciprocation on Mingyu’s end and while he’s normally a gentleman about these kinds of things, he promptly zips himself back up before leaving her alone in that dirty bathroom without another word.

To his surprise, Jeonghan is still there at their table, tapping away on his phone with a look of mild interest lining his gaze. Mingyu asks him what’s up.

“Wonwoo’s celebrating his birthday this year with everyone,” he chimes. “You would know when Soonyoung’s blowing up gen chat, but you were kind of busy getting your dick wet.”

Now that genuinely takes him by surprise. 

While his best friend isn’t some brooding edgelord that thinks celebrating birthdays is overrated, Wonwoo has always preferred commemorating it in intimate spaces. He usually just orders some fancier take out than their usual Chinese fast food and Mingyu buys him a silly cat-themed cake for him to blow out the candles on. 

But as Mingyu brings himself up to speed about what went down in their server over the last thirty minutes, he can now confirm that Jeonghan wasn’t bluffing at all.

Wonwoo: Dinner at Jungsik Dang at 7 PM on the 17th. The actual thing starts at 8 but you assholes have a thing for being late all the time.

Soonyoung: nice. i’ll leave my house at 10 

Chan: Loser. I’ll leave at midnight

Seungkwan: Maybe you shouldn’t have announced the real time the program starts, hyung.

“You’ll be there, won’t you?”

Jeonghan’s question makes Mingyu look up from the Discord conversation on his phone and into the older man’s eyes. There’s a look he can quite pin down on his face and Mingyu isn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“Of course,” he says, throat tightening for reasons even he can’t name. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mingyu doesn’t really count the time left before Wonwoo’s birthday—much too preoccupied with his own schedules to notice the days passing by. But as busy as he is, at least he doesn’t have to keep inviting Jeonghan out for an excuse to go outside the apartment whenever you’re paying a visit. 

If Wonwoo has noticed Mingyu’s evasive behavior, he never really shows it. The older man still greets Mingyu everyday with a curt nod, retreating to his own bedroom before doing his morning streams. Wonwoo seems none the wiser to his best friend’s predicament and Mingyu prefers it that way.

But while it’s much easier to avoid Wonwoo’s scrutiny, you’re an entirely different case.

Mingyu comes home late one evening after a niche fashion event that one of his contacts personally invited him to attend. He doesn’t really get why he even reached out to him, given the fact that Mingyu’s modeling scene is a far cry from whatever haute couture bullshit they’ve got going on there. 

The only reason he deigned to show up is because of the stories about the organizer’s after parties that his said contact mentioned in passing. Well, that and the invitation was extended to him on a night you were staying over at their place. 

Mingyu is more than a little drunk when he stumbles inside the apartment—kicking his boots off with a huff as his inebriated eyes parse through the dim lights. He sighs, an airy smile gracing his lips as he recalls this evening’s events. 

Sure, he enjoys those quiet drinking sessions he shared with Jeonghan just fine, but Mingyu isn’t past admitting that he misses partying like he did when he was still in college. In fact, he actually had the chance to go home with one of the pretty models that took the runway. 

She’d been making moony eyes at him all evening and Mingyu would’ve let her whisk him off to whatever five-star accommodation she’s staying in if only he hadn’t promised to guest on Soonyoung’s charity stream the next morning. 

So here he is, leaning against the kitchen counter as he drunkenly smiles at the last text his would-be conquest—her name’s Suji—sent five minutes ago. She told him to don’t forget to wash up before you sleep and have fun at your stream tomorrow <3

Suji is adorable. Fun to be with even if Mingyu only spent a total of two hours mingling with her in the high-end afterparty venue. Never did he imagine that a literal supermodel would even be remotely interested in what he does for a living, but the world is full of surprises like that.

In fact, it’s so full of surprises that Mingyu ends up dropping the glass of water in his hand when he sees you emerge from Wonwoo’s bedroom. 

“Jeez, Gyu,” you mumble as you stare at the mess he made—hundreds of shards glimmering against the wet floor. “I know you’re clumsy but you never really break things by accident.”

Mingyu swallows thickly, wanting to say that you were the one who surprised him out of nowhere, but his eyes completely zero in on the conspicuous bruises that litter your throat and collarbones like a disconnected necklace. 

All it takes is one brief glance at his best friend’s bedroom—to which you left the door completely open—for Mingyu to confirm the suspicions wriggling in the back of his head. 

Wonwoo is lying on his stomach, bare back sporting scratch marks that Mingyu has teased him about before while his lower half is completely hidden beneath your favorite weighted blanket. He’s completely still as he sleeps, chest rising and falling with steady breathing.

When Mingyu dares to look at you again, he suddenly forgets about what happened at the afterparty; about Suji and her thoughtful texts. 

Because how can he think of anything else when you’re right in front of him, freshly fucked by his best friend?

“What are you—?! Mingyu!” 

He doesn’t listen when you scold him for picking up the bigger glass shards off the floor with his bare hands. He needs to focus on everything but your pebbled nipples peeking through the fabric of Wonwoo’s shirt. The hem fluttering across your bare thighs. The way your face is still flushed with sleep and what Mingyu presumes is that post-orgasmic haze. 

Because if he doesn’t, he might just end up doing something he’ll regret for a lifetime and more.

But it’s just as you said earlier—Mingyu is clumsy; even more so when he’s had way too many Jägerbombs than his tolerance can actually handle. So he isn’t really surprised when one of the sharp edges splits the skin of his hand open, blood quickly seeping through the wound as he unceremoniously drops the shards he collected on the kitchen island with a hiss.

“You’re such a big idiot,” you groan before marching off to the bathroom.

When you come back with the first-aid kit that Mingyu himself had stocked when he and Wonwoo moved in, the first thing that comes to mind is how you’re pretty much a regular fixture in their home now. You know where the first-aid kit is. You know where Mingyu keeps the brooms and mops and dustpans. You know that he doesn’t like leaving messes in the house even if it’s a mess that Mingyu himself was responsible for making. 

You’ve inserted yourself seamlessly into his and Wonwoo’s daily lives and Mingyu isn’t certain how long he can keep pretending that isn’t the case. 

“Just leave the shards be,” you grumble before dragging him off to the sink. “Let’s clean it up after I clean you up.”

Mingyu remains silent as you apply ample pressure on the wound, listening to you mutter about how the bleeding has to stop first before it can be disinfected. He doesn’t really process much of what you have to say—too caught up in how his pulse roars in his ears from the way your fingers press firmly against his own. 

He’s vaguely aware of his phone buzzing every now and again where he left it on the counter, but Mingyu doesn’t even feel the least bit apologetic for leaving Suji hanging more than he already has. 

Right now, you’re the only one that matters.

“Alright, I think it clotted pretty nicely,” you observe with a small, relieved smile as you lift the piece of cotton you used to stem the bleeding. “Go wash your hands, big boy. Sit with me on the couch after so I can wrap a bandage around it.”

If he was even the slightest bit sober, Mingyu would’ve huffed and insisted that he can do that by himself. It’s not like he sliced off his entire arm like he did with Godrick the Grafted when you watched him play Elden Ring a few weeks back. 

But Mingyu isn’t sober and all his stupid, drunk brain is telling him is to do as you say because he knows it’ll make you less worried. 

Your touch is weighted with tenderness as you patch up the gash on Mingyu’s finger. There are no sordid remarks about his carelessness to be said—only the implicit concern that permeates off your being and rings in his ears. But even if Mingyu’s head is still swimming with liquor, he’s empathic enough to be able to tell that him dropping a glass of water isn’t the only thing you’re upset about tonight.

“Gyu, did I do something wrong?” you murmur, smoothing your thumb across the bandage once it’s in place. “You’ve been avoiding us a lot lately.”

He finds your choice of words a little…interesting. 

Of course, Mingyu wouldn’t put it past you to notice that he’s been noticeably absent in the apartment these days. But for you to assume that it’s because of something you alone have done and not include Wonwoo in the narrative? You know him so well, it makes his chest burn with an emotion he can’t name.

Or maybe he’s just really fucking drunk.

“Why would I be avoiding you?” Mingyu chuckles, resting the back of his head against the cushions as he stares at the ceiling in a pathetic attempt at playing it cool. “I’ve just been a little busy is all. Don’t tell me Wonwoo-hyung misses me or something.”

“Maybe. But what if I miss you, too?”

The silence that follows is a little too loud in Mingyu’s ears.

You can’t do that. You can’t ask him questions that he doesn’t know the answer to.

Mingyu isn’t sure which robs him of coherent thought more: you in killer outfits and flawless makeup or you in one of Wonwoo’s old white shirts, barefaced and vulnerable as you scrutinize him with a pleading look in the middle of their living room.

He wishes he could just go back to the time when he just knew you as an up-there Twitch streamer that he suspected his best friend was fucking around with. Things were much simpler when Mingyu was merely a spectator in Wonwoo's complicated love life. But now, he’s slowly getting to know you past all the sexy cat girl cosplay and the fanservice. Past the back-and-forth banter with your boyfriend that Mingyu was once content with observing from the sidelines.

Did Wonwoo suffer through the same kind of epiphany before you started dating? It’s no secret that your boyfriend had a stick up his ass when it came to acknowledging how he felt about you, but Mingyu doesn’t fault him for it. He knows damn well that there’s just something about you that attracts people like magnets with polar ends.

People like Wonwoo and Mingyu who are helpless to your unknowing charm. 

But the difference between him and his best friend is that Mingyu has no right to feel the way he does. He’s lucky enough to get to see sides of you that you’d never show to your subscribers and he told himself that he’ll never pursue anything past that—no matter how badly he wants to.

Yet the fact remains that Mingyu is just a man too drunk to deal with all of this right now, and you’re playing your cards a little too well, whether you know it or not.

“You’re saying that you miss me when hyung is already giving you splendid company?” Mingyu laughs airily, letting his eyes flutter shut because if he holds your gaze any longer, he might just combust right there. “You wouldn’t be hanging out here so much if he wasn’t, right?”

You’re quiet for a moment, eyes boring into Mingyu as if you’re looking for something he’s desperately trying to hide. He loathes and loves how perceptive you are, but if he isn’t careful, he might end up jeopardizing your friendship for good.

Then quietly, you ask:

“Have you not considered that maybe I hang out here a lot because of you?”

Before the words can even settle inside his head, you flatten your palms against his thigh, leaning in so close, Mingyu is certain you hear the way his breath hitches. Your eyes crinkle in the dim lights as you offer up a smile with just a little more intent than he’d expect you to show.

When Mingyu’s gaze flickers to the collection of love bites you’ve amassed on your neck, his traitorous brain wonders how it would feel like to sink his teeth into your skin. To litter your throat with his marks, to have you writhing against his touch. 

“I could always just invite Wonwoo to my place, no?” you murmur, each word making the back of Mingyu’s neck prickle with heat. “But I insist on coming over here instead ‘cause I actually like hanging out with my boyfriend’s best friend.”

Then, as if his entire world was plunged into slow motion, you press your lips closer to Mingyu’s ear—one hand braced against his firm chest as he feels you grin against his lobe. 

“After all, we make such a good team. Right, Gyugyu?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

“We do make a good team. See? You patched me all up!” Mingyu laughs heartily before begrudgingly peeling himself away from your touch. “I’m a little sleepy though. Do you want to help me clean up or not?”

He knows he’s overcompensating, but if he doesn’t get away from you now…

Mingyu doesn’t even want to know what he’ll do.

When he deigns to look at you again, the heated look in your eyes hasn’t dissipated. You even make a fucking show of swiping your tongue across your bottom lip, staring up at your boyfriend’s best friend like you want to just…eat him up. 

But that can’t be right. He’s seen how enamored you are with Wonwoo.

You couldn’t possibly be…

“I’m a little sleepy too,” you admit, stifling a yawn that’s obviously fake. “I think I’ve already helped you enough for tonight, big guy. You go clean up that little mess you made ‘cause I’m going back to bed.”

Back to Wonwoo’s side—Mingyu reminds himself firmly.

He doesn’t really have to be told twice, nodding in agreement as he shuffles over to the kitchen and grabs the cleaning paraphernalia you were kind enough to bring out earlier. The dull ache in Mingyu’s temples makes it easy for him to do everything in silence. But of course that’s the last thing you’ll willingly give to him.

“By the way,” you start, twisting your torso halfway around to face him. The action makes Wonwoo’s shirt ride even further up your thighs and Mingyu fears he’ll have to clean up another growing mess in his jeans if he wants to get some sleep tonight.

“Suji’s been texting you non-stop. It would be rude to just keep her hanging, no?”

Figurative alarm bells start going off inside his head as his mouth hangs loose. You flash him a grin that’s much too smug for him to miss, greeting him good night, Mingyu before shutting the door to Wonwoo’s room behind you.

When he’s just about done throwing the glass shards in the trash and mopping up the water he splashed all over the floor, he retreats into the comfort of his own bedroom. He doesn’t reply to any of Suji’s text messages even after he gets changed into more comfortable clothes. 

Not when he’s now fully aware that you know.

You know that he’s got the hots for you. You know that he’d drop any other semi-attractive person he’s using to distract himself the moment you throw him scraps of your attention. He feels like a helpless fucking puppy with how easy it is for you to unknowingly lead him by the nose.

Here we have another one of Mingyu’s many dilemmas in life. The object of his frustrated affections, the person he wants the most might just want him back. 

The issue? Her boyfriend—his best friend—has no fucking clue. 

Vernon isn’t someone that Mingyu frequently hangs out with. Out of all the three other GAM3 BO1s, the youngest is probably the one that he spends time with the least. But that doesn’t mean that Mingyu enjoys his company less than the company of his other friends. In hindsight, Vernon could easily be his favorite of the younger streamers in their entire friend group.

So when Vernon asks him for some tips on making his own gym routine, Mingyu sees no problem in showing up to give his friend some advice. 

Surprisingly enough, when Mingyu arrives in his and Wonwoo’s usual place, he spots Seungkwan in the waiting lounge with Vernon as well. 

“What came over you guys when you suddenly decided that you wanted to work out?” Mingyu laughs as he leads the odd pair to the locker rooms. “When we last asked about it on the server, most of you were being such prissy little shits about it.”

“Hey, we so work out!” Seungkwan complains with a huff. “We just don’t go to the gym. Get your facts straight, Kim Mingyu.”

As things are, Vernon wants to build his core strength while Seungkwan wants to focus on cardio. He tries his best to instruct them as effectively as he can all while getting his usual routine over with. Mingyu was supposed to try adding more weights to his deadlifts but with his attention divided between his two friends, he figures that he shouldn’t risk accidentally dropping a 150-kilograms’ worth of weights on his feet. 

They’re all absorbed in their own work for about thirty minutes until Seungkwan eventually hops off the treadmill and collapses dramatically on the matted floor.

“I need a water break,” he wheezes and Mingyu laughs as he offers him a bottle.

During their quick break, Vernon whips out his phone and puts on a Twitch stream for the three of them to watch. Curiously, Mingyu peers at the screen, only to feel his stomach plummet to the pit of his stomach when he realizes whose stream it is.

Seungkwan scoffs. “There he goes again, watching Koyahngi like a closeted fan.”

“Hey, she’s playing Xenoblade Chronicles 3 today and told me to watch ‘cause I’m like, the biggest Xenoblade junkie on the server,” Vernon explains coolly while wiping off the sweat on his face. 

Mingyu frowns. “Xenoblade? On a PC?”

“Yeah. She’s using an emulator.”

“That’s illegal, isn’t it? Won’t she get in trouble for live streaming it or something?”

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Seungkwan sighs as he splays his legs across the mat for a quick stretch. “You of all people should know that pretty girls like our dearest Koyahngi can get away with absolutely everything. It’s part of her charm!”

Vernon elbows Seungkwan in the stomach, to which the latter reacts with another dramatized gesture as if he’d been shot instead. Mingyu lets them banter between themselves for a few moments—choosing to focus on the stream instead.

You’re still in the middle of preparing the game you’re supposed to play on an illegal platform, dressed to the nines in full Mythra cosplay. Of course, a pair of cat ears that match the entire fit sits comfortably on your head—as is your signature look in all outfits. 

“Oh wait, is Vernon here?” you muse out loud as you squint at the chat. “If you guys watch his stuff, you’ll know how crazy he is about Xenoblade, so I invited him as a special guest! Say hi to everyone for me, yeah?”

Vernon is so quick to snatch his phone to type in hi o/~~ in the chat, it even startles Mingyu. 

“There he is!” You giggle. “We should collaborate on another game sometime, yeah? Sucks that Xenoblade doesn’t allow you to coop.”

Out loud, Vernon snorts. “Yeah, I won’t be doing that.”

“Why not?” Mingyu asks, genuinely curious. “She seems cool with it.”

“Are you crazy? Wonwoo-hyung will kill me,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I know I’m the one who introduced her to the friend group, but we all know how Wonwoo-hyung is with her. If she was my girlfriend, I’d gatekeep her from the rest of the world, too. Maybe.”

The words ring in Mingyu’s ears like a stern reminder he should’ve heeded a long time ago. 

It’s no secret that Wonwoo is a little…possessive over you. He might even be acting as your pseudo-mod right this second—watching the chat like a hawk before doing public lashings for any weirdos brave enough to send anything inappropriate. 

He wonders how Wonwoo would react if he knew about that chance encounter he shared with you a few nights prior…

“True,” Seungkwan agrees before rising back to his feet with a hop. “The only person he’ll probably be cool with handing Koyahngi over to is Mingyu-hyung.”

His friend says those words while he’s in the middle of taking a huge gulp of water. It nearly goes down his windpipe when he makes a surprised noise, but thankfully Mingyu manages to not sputter out his drink all over Vernon’s face.

“What?” he asks raspily when he collects himself. “Why me?”

“Uh, maybe because he’s alright with letting you touch and hug her anytime, but we get warning glares whenever we get close to her?” 

Warning what? He’s got to be lying. Wonwoo is crazy possessive, but he does not glare at his friends just because they’re being affectionate to you.

Right?

Begrudgingly, Vernon nods at his side. “Mhmm. I think it has something to do with you guys living together for years now. You’ve shared practically everything up to this point, right?”

Mingyu scowls at them both. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, right?”

“What are you—oh,” Seungkwan trails off with his face reddening upon realizing. “I didn’t mean he’d be down to share his girlfriend with you like that! But hey, if Wonwoo-hyung is into it, then you’re probably the only person he’ll consider accepting.”

“Agreed,” Vernon chimes. “Anyway, are we going back to work? I can watch her stream while I’m doing crunches just fine.” 

As the three of them disperse back to their own corners in the gym, Mingyu finds himself mulling over that earlier conversation with Vernon and Seungkwan. They’re both aware of Wonwoo’s territorial nature, but openly admitted that when it comes to Mingyu, things might be a little different. 

Which doesn’t help his case at all. Because how the fuck is he supposed to move past his feelings now? Not only did you implicitly reciprocate his interest the other night to some degree, but now he’s got his other friends unknowingly rooting for him too. 

Mingyu breathes in deeply as he tries lifting 75 kilogram weights on each side of the bar all while thinking back to Jeonghan’s advice to just negotiate.

Do his friends’ words have any truth to them? Will Wonwoo actually agree if…if—

“Fuck,” Mingyu grumbles when he feels the force of the barbell’s weight flaring up his arms and muscles. But at the same time he realizes that it’s impossible to ask Wonwoo about what he wants because…

He can’t just tell him, hey hyung, how would you feel if I fucked your girlfriend? Wonwoo would probably chase him out of the apartment with a knife if he did. Worse, he’d end more than fifteen years’ worth of friendship and Mingyu loses not only that hair-strand thin chance of getting with you but also his best friend. 

That’s not a risk he thinks he’s foolish enough to take. 

As some sort of punishment, Mingyu forces himself to bear the barbell’s weight for about ten seconds before letting it drop back to the floor—the fibers of his muscles screaming in agony with what he just put them through. 

He probably, definitely deserves more than that though. 

“Mingyu! You’re late!”

Soonyoung’s jarring voice is the first thing that greets Mingyu when he finally arrives at the restaurant. The tall man is immediately surrounded by his friends—getting roughhoused for being tardy on his best friend’s special day. He lets out an easygoing laugh to brush off their teasing, eyes observing the private room Wonwoo rented for the occasion. 

“What took you so long, man?!” Seokmin complains, throttling Mingyu by the lapels of his iron-pressed suit jacket. “You’re the one who always brings out the cake for Wonwoo, remember? Seungcheol-hyung nearly set the entire cake on fire earlier.”

“Fondant icing can’t catch fire, you ditz,” the eldest of their group scoffs. “Anyway, we might as well do the toast since Mingyu’s finally here.”

As his pack of rowdy friends ushers themselves back into their seats, Mingyu lets his gaze rove around again. On the end of the long, fancy dining table he spots the birthday boy waving over at him with a small smile. Right next to Wonwoo is, of course, you—flashing him a grin with those ruby red lips as your eyes crinkle with a smile that haunts him with his eyes closed.

If Mingyu came clean and said that you were the reason he almost didn’t show up to his own best friend’s birthday dinner, would everyone else in this room hate him for it?

Probably.

Once everyone is settled into their seats, Mingyu gets served a full-course meal by the waiters bussing around the private enclosure. Everyone else was already halfway through dessert and they’re now being poured generous amounts of whatever champagne Seungkwan boasted about buying for Wonwoo as a birthday present. 

“C’mon, birthday toast!” Seungkwan announces obnoxiously loud as he eggs everyone on to raise their glasses. “So who’s going to do the honors and kiss Wonwoo-hyung’s ass for tonight?”

“Shouldn’t the latecomer do the honors?” Minghao suggests with a sleazy look. “Besides, he’s Wonwoo-hyung’s best friend anyways.”

“Asshole,” Mingyu mutters under his breath before swallowing a mouthful of his food and grabbing his champagne glass. “Uh, there’s nothing much to say. Wonwoo-hyung already knows everything I want to tell him.”

“Boo!” Chan yells from the other end. “You’re so lame, hyung. How would you feel if your best friend used that as your birthday greeting, huh?”

Joshua makes a noise in agreement. “Mingyu-yah, I’m sure there’s at least some things you want to tell him, right?”

With all eyes on him now, Mingyu feels himself flush several shades red. Goddammit. 

He forcibly meets Wonwoo’s expectant stare from the other side of the table, appeased by the warm look in his best friend’s eyes. That’s right…

Asking Wonwoo if he can have just one chance with his girlfriend is ridiculous and impossible. But saying nice things about his best friend? That’s always been Mingyu’s forte. Even if Wonwoo threatens to break his PS5 every three business days whenever the younger man pisses him off on purpose.

“This hyung of mine has grown a lot over the last decade and more. Not that being introverted is a bad thing or anything, but it’s nice seeing him become more outgoing and interactive with people outside our circle,” Mingyu starts with a small yet genuine smile. “Our dream of playing games for a living is all too real now. But for Wonwoo-hyung, he’s a brilliant professional who’s going to be scouted on the Worlds team roster pretty soon, I’m sure.”

“Now you’re just lying to my face to gas me up,” Wonwoo chuckles. 

He gestures for him to quiet down. “Ah! You guys wanted me to talk so let me finish talking!”

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Jihoon comments. “This guy says five hundred words per minute depending on how much alcohol he’s got in his system.”

“We’ll all end up going home super late at this rate,” Jun chuckles with a shake of his head.

Mingyu pouts for a moment but his friends eventually cut him some slack—keeping their teasing jabs to themselves first to let him finish his impromptu speech. 

“As I was saying,” the part time model huffs, “You’re an amazing player and an equally amazing friend. You always put up with everyone’s antics even if we all know you’d prefer peace and quiet. You’re the one who makes life just a little more bearable for me. And even if you don’t really show it much, we know how much you actually love each one of us. 

“So… Happy Birthday, Wonwoo-hyung. Please live happily and healthily for the next hundred years because I’m afraid that they’ll only release Dark Souls 4 by then.”

Once he’s concluded what he has to say, everyone at the table cheers—not for Wonwoo, but for how concise Mingyu’s birthday speech is. Those little shits. 

Either way, they all raise a toast for today’s celebrant—Soonyoung singing an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday on the top of his lungs as they all clinked champagne glasses together. Mingyu’s grinning from ear-to-ear as he watches his friends mess around with each other as per usual, thinking how he’ll never want any other constants in his life as long as they’re by his side.

But in the middle of all the commotion, his gaze tunnels into his best friend. 

Wonwoo is in the middle of talking to you with a loving smile on his lips. Mingyu is a little too far away to make sense of what you’re talking about, but you do lean closer to press a firm kiss on your boyfriend’s lips.

He can’t really name the emotion that prickles in his chest at the sight of it. The closest thing would probably be jealousy but it doesn’t sound quite fitting. Mingyu doesn’t really wish for his best friend to be out of the picture so he could be on the receiving end of your sweet kisses.

It’s more like…he just wants you to give some to him too.

But after weeks and weeks of fighting against his fatal attraction to you, he’s grown quite exhausted from all the senseless overthinking. Mingyu is now waving the white flag of surrender—ready to bury these feelings in the past where they belong. 

After all, he’d never trade all the years he’s spent with Wonwoo for a woman he’ll get over in no time. He’s better than that.

Until he’s not.

Mingyu doesn’t really know how it happened, when it started, and why he even let things get this far. 

Wonwoo was generous enough to book everyone their own rooms in the hotel just across the famous restaurant he decided to treat them in. It was mostly for Soonyoung because they all know how that man can hardly handle his liquor. But still, it’s nice to be spoiled by the most stoic out of their friend group every now and again.

Before retreating to his own room, Mingyu decided to catch some fresh air on the open balcony on the tenth floor. The breeze blew past his face nice and easy, making him feel more relaxed than he has in the last few months. 

But then you swooped down on him like an angel of death.

It’s been a while since he talked to you one-on-one like this. The last time was probably the night he split his hand open and you had to patch him up. 

Mingyu is apprehensive during the entire course of the conversation, which is weird because he’s always felt comfortable in your company. It’s his stupid fucking feelings making things weird for him. 

If only he could just wake up one day and things were back to the way they were.

He hoped it would just be one of those regular conversations where you’d eventually excuse yourself to look for Wonwoo. Mingyu can handle that. He can pretend to be fine in the face of others even if he’s rotting from the inside out because of how badly he wants to tear that lovely dress off of you. That’s something he’s always been good at.

However, when he’s in the middle of telling you a story about how Soonyoung betted a large amount of in-game Valorant currency on the possibility of you and Wonwoo dating back then, you bring a single finger to Mingyu’s lips.

“Aren’t you tired of this, Gyu?” you sigh, pouting at him so tantalizingly with your perfect red lips as you bring your hand down. 

His brows furrow together, not quite catching what you’re trying to say. “T-Tired of what?”

The corners of your mouth pull up into a pretty smile that’s wearing down his defenses faster than he’d like it to. “Of this game of push and pull, silly. I’ve been trying to get you to sleep with me for ages, but you’re such a good puppy, aren’t you? Never taking anything you want unless someone gives it to you.”

Mingyu can hardly believe his ears.

“You’ve been trying to…what?” His mouth drops into a disbelieving look. “I— You— You can’t be serious. What do you mean you want to sleep with me? You have a boyfriend.”

You make a sound of affirmation before leaning closer to him by the rails, tugging on the lapels of his jacket to pull him flush against you. Mingyu has to physically bite down a groan at the feel of your perky tits pushed into his chest. 

“I do, but that’s not important right now,” you giggle as you let your fingers trail up the curve of his neck. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Gyu? I see the way you look at me, you know. You have a bad case of wandering eye especially when I prance around your apartment wearing nothing but Wonwoo’s shirts. I didn’t expect you to hold out for this long honestly.”

The fact that you have a boyfriend isn’t important right now? And you’ve been deliberately seducing him all this goddamn time?

What the ever-loving fuck?

Mingyu still remembers how you looked into Wonwoo’s eyes earlier after the birthday toast. The love and adoration laced in your gaze…was that completely fake? Were you just using his best friend so you could get to him? 

That’s not right. He at least knows the abridged version of yours and Wonwoo’s love story. Despite how unpredictable you can be, Mingyu refuses to believe that you’ll willingly put yourself through all that if you didn’t love Wonwoo in the first place. If he’s the one you’ve wanted all along.

But the fight in him has been fading day by day. Mingyu thought he was closer to accepting the fact that he’ll never really have you the way he wants to. But in truth, he’s on the complete opposite side of the spectrum. 

It’s just the way things were before—Kim Mingyu will come running once you drop him scraps of your affection.

“Do you want to kiss me, Gyu?” you murmur, lips ghosting across his own. 

No. He wants to say no. He needs to say no.

“Yes,” Mingyu breathes instead, a thousand sparks igniting in his chest as he stares at the plump curve of your lips. “God, fuck yes.”

You make a show of dragging your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him with so much desire in your eyes, he nearly melts from the intensity of it. 

“Okay, big boy,” you giggle before taking his hand in a firm grip. “Not here though.”

The short trip back to your hotel room is swift. Mingyu doesn’t think about anything else but the feel of your soft skin cradling his large hand in yours. He doesn’t even wonder where the fuck Wonwoo is during this entire thing. All that matters is the fact that this is real and this is happening. 

If things go the way he assumes they will in his head, he’ll finally get to have you for himself.

That’s the exact thought that makes the blood in Mingyu’s veins come alive with heady arousal—tapping his feet on the carpeted floor of the hallway as you scan your keycard on the lock of your hotel room. You giggle at his impatience tugging him into the room by his necktie before the door clicks shut behind him.

Mingyu doesn’t waste any time. He quickly crowds you against the wall of the narrow hallway entrance, hands on your hips as he crushes his lips with yours like your kiss was air itself. You moan into his mouth before hooking your thigh around his hips to let him grind his hardening length against your middle. 

“You have no fucking idea how badly I want you,” he hisses between kisses, migrating to your neck to continue his onslaught against your skin. “Always walking around the house barely dressed. You were daring enough to rub the fact that Wonwoo-hyung just fucked you in my face last time too. Did you want me to fuck you the same way that night?”

“Mmm… Gyu,” you moan as he sucks on the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “Y-Yeah… Wanted you to stuff me with your cock when Nonu’s cum was still dripping out of me. Does that make me a dirty girl?”

“It does, princess.”

Mingyu knows himself to be a person that’s easily spooked. It’s for that reason that Soonyoung likes popping out of nowhere just to do that. The reason Seungcheol likes intimidating him with a single look whenever Mingyu pushes his buttons. But it takes a lot to genuinely scare him. 

Hearing Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of this room, apparently, is enough to make the color drain from his entire face.

Wonwoo is seated on a reading chair propped by the windows with the curtains drawn, scrolling through his phone with a bored look like the sight of his girlfriend being pushed against a wall by his best friend is something that doesn’t faze him in the slightest. 

“H-Hyung,” Mingyu stutters, swallowing thickly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

His roommate chuckles. “Mingyu, you just admitted out loud that you want to fuck my girlfriend. This is exactly what it looks like.”

“Mmm, big puppy’s being so silly,” you giggle as you inch your thighs apart, poking the tip of Mingyu’s nose with your finger. “He’s been fighting himself all this time and now when he can finally have me, he chickens out again. What do we do with him, daddy?”

…Daddy?

Wonwoo hums almost theatrically as he crosses his legs on the chair, smirking at the two of you like…like—

“Did you two plan this?” Mingyu asks incredulously, trying his best not to get distracted by your cleavage peeking from the low cut of your dress. “Hyung, why do you seem so…”

“Comfortable with the thought of you railing my girl well into the next day?” Wonwoo supplies and Mingyu winces at his crass wording. Well, he is right but— “Because I am, Mingyu. But since you’re a little slow on the uptake sometimes, she’ll spell it out for you in a way that leaves no room for misunderstandings.”

As if on cue, you give Mingyu’s necktie another firm tug, forcing the tall man to look at you with a bewildered look. You bat your lashes at him with a disarming smile before pulling him closer so that your faces are leveled.

“I told Wonwoo that I really want to know what it feels to have you inside me, Gyugyu,” you whisper. “If I mentioned any other guy, he probably would’ve killed them ‘cause he’s possessive like that. He’s only alright with it ‘cause it’s you.” 

“And she’s been seducing you for a while now. It really is a mystery how you managed to hold out that long when she had me wrapped around her finger in no time,” Wonwoo adds with a chuckle. “You’re better than me, it seems.”

Mingyu’s gaze keeps alternating between you and his best friend—unable to completely wrap his head around the idea that not only are you actually into him, but Wonwoo gave your sick fantasies his blessing beforehand. 

“You…” He breathes in deeply before turning to Wonwoo again. “You want me to fuck your girlfriend? On your birthday?”

The older man shrugs. “This could’ve happened much sooner if you weren’t so dense, Mingyu. But if that bothers you so much, then just think of it as another treat from me.”

“Gyu,” you whine, practically rubbing yourself against his thick thigh. “Stop thinking and just fuck me already, yeah? Doesn’t my big puppy want to feel me wrapped around his cock? I promise it’ll feel so much better than your hand.”

Oh. Oh. 

Mingyu isn’t sure what to focus on first—you calling him your big puppy or the fact that they know he’s been jacking off religiously to the thought of sinking his length into your wet heat. But it’s just as you said.

Mingyu should really just stop fucking thinking.

All the time he spends at the gym is put to good use when he effortlessly picks you up by your thighs and migrates to the mattress. You let out an adorable little squeal when he gently lays you on top of the sheets and Mingyu has to keep himself from moaning at the sight of you splayed out so prettily for him. 

“Are you just going to watch?” he asks Wonwoo without looking back at him, unable to tear his gaze away from you as you tug your dress down to reveal your tits. “I’d feel a little terrible if that’s the case.”

Wonwoo barks out a laugh. “Just a little?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu whispers before shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Just a little.”

That’s how he ends up with his face buried between your soft thighs, tongue working on your glistening slit as your fingers tangle themselves in his mussed hair. The noises spilling senselessly from your lips are like music to his ears—egging him on to pick you apart with his tongue and fingers all while your boyfriend watches diligently from his seat. 

Eating pussy while Wonwoo acts as a willing audience is honestly the last thing on Mingyu’s lifetime bucket list, but he knows very well that life’s full of surprises. 

“Your tongue feels so good, puppy,” you whimper, thighs pressing against the sides of Mingyu’s head as he slurps at your dripping cunt. “More please. Gyu, I wanna come on your face so bad—oh!” 

He smirks against your sensitive flesh when you jolt at the sensation of him sliding his thick fingers inside your hole—two right away because you’re already so wet and ready for him.

“She can take three, Gyu,” he hears Wonwoo chime in from behind. “Four if you’re feeling a little generous.”

The idea of taking more of his digits seems to excite you more than Mingyu expected. He feels you tighten around the fingers already inside you and he groans before suckling on your clit with unparalleled fervor.

He does just as Wonwoo says—sliding in a third finger as he stretches your gummy walls open. You have all the time in the world and he isn’t in too much of a rush to make you take as many digits as he can give you. As things stand, you’re already on the verge of being fucked out of your mind from the way his mouth works on your needy pussy alone. 

“Mingyu!” you gasp when he crooks his fingers just so, making your back arch off the mattress so sexily, he has to resist the urge to rise and give you a long, sloppy kiss. “Fuck, fuck, right there! Feels so good, puppy. Give me more.”

He fucking loves it when you call him puppy and he doesn’t really know what that says about him. It’s not like Mingyu can bring himself to care though—not when you’re grinding your sopping cunt against his mouth like he’s your own personal toy. 

“Shit, princess. You’re not this demanding when I eat you out,” Wonwoo groans. 

“T-That’s cause—ahn, Mingyu…” A surge of pride momentarily fills his chest when he renders you unable to manage a coherent response. “You’re my daddy and he’s my puppy. I can boss my puppy around, right, Gyugyu?”

While Mingyu is just now getting to know what sort of dynamic you and Wonwoo have in the bedroom, he doesn’t really have any qualms about what you’ve decided on for him. He merely nods a bit too eagerly, unceasing on his onslaught of tongue and fingers. Your body is wracked with another full shiver when the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit, sparing him another beautiful moan that goes straight to his cock.

“‘m so close, puppy,” you cry out, riding his face as you squeeze your breasts in the hand not tangled in his hair. “Mouth’s so fucking good to me. Love how you eat me out s’much, Gyu.”

He doesn’t notice how he’s nearly rutting his hips into the bed in a desperate attempt at giving himself some much-needed friction. Your eyes flutter closed as your body stutters to a stop, shuddering as your orgasm finally washes over you. 

Mingyu growls as he slips his fingers out of your quivering hole, burying his tongue inside your cunt as you ride out your high. You buck your hips against his mouth and he’s much too eager to place his hands on your ass as you come back down to earth. 

To his surprise, you bounce back from that mind-shattering orgasm much quicker than he thought. Right when you stop trembling in his grasp, you’re quick to pull Mingyu up to have a taste of yourself on his lips—tongue swirling with his own as the tangy flavor spreads across the appendage. 

“Want your cock next, Gyu,” you breathe against his mouth, eyes hooded with desire. “You’ll give it to me, won’t you?” 

He’d be the biggest idiot in the world if he refused.

You quickly reposition yourself on the mattress, crawling towards the edge of the bed while glancing over at your boyfriend—still watching the show the both of you are putting up for him. Mingyu was so lost in the sensation of you grinding your pussy on his face, he nearly forgot Wonwoo was even in the room.

“Daddy, want yours too,” you whimper all while pushing your ass back for Mingyu’s enjoyment, the multitasker you are. “Can I suck you off?”

“Feeling greedy all of a sudden?” Wonwoo chuckles. “Do you really think you can take two cocks at the same time, princess? Are you that much of a cockhungry slut?” 

You nod, too high on arousal to give a shit. “Uh-huh.”

Fuck. Why was that so hot?

Despite how he initially reacted, Wonwoo gets up from his seat and pads over closer to you. Meanwhile, Mingyu takes his aching length out of his tight trousers—breathing a sigh in relief as he pumps his cock a few times. 

He feels like he should feel unnerved about taking his dick out in front of Wonwoo, but then again this isn’t something he hasn’t seen before. The college dorm bathrooms were an interesting place, but then again this is the first time he’s actually let his best friend get a look at his cock when it’s fully hard. 

The sound of him jerking himself makes you glance behind you and he swears hearts nearly dance in the pupils of your eyes when your gaze zeros in on his dick.

“You’re so fucking huge,” you groan as Mingyu rubs his length along your ass. “Daddy, you’ve got a best friend with such a pretty fucking cock and you didn’t even bother telling me? You’re mean…”

The laugh that rumbles in Wonwoo’s chest betrays the fact that he’s a little ticked off with what you just said. “Baby, I’m already doing a lot for you by letting Gyu fuck you open. Keep abusing your pretty privilege even more, and I’ll fuck your mouth until you can’t say ridiculous things.” 

Of course, Wonwoo’s threat garners the exact opposite of his intended reaction. Mingyu feels your slick gush out of your entrance at the prospect of being used by your boyfriend in such a demeaning way and he sighs with disbelief.

“Hyung,” he calls out as you work on Wonwoo’s belt and zipper. “Do I need to wear a condom or…?”

His best friend hums momentarily. “That’s up to her. What do you say, baby? Do you want to feel Mingyu’s monster cock raw or not?”

You pause from undoing Wonwoo’s pants to turn around once more, taking Mingyu’s heavy length in your hand as you practically salivate over it. Then, with careful movements, you guide his cockhead to your gaping entrance and Mingyu nearly comes right then and there.

“Wanna get pumped full of your cum, puppy,” you mewl. “Need your big cock to stretch me out so bad. You want that too, right?”

Of fucking course he wants it.

You let out a choked up noise when Mingyu eases himself inside you—trying his damn hardest to not just shove his entire length into you in one go. Wonwoo smirks at your reaction before taking out his own cock. 

Mingyu isn’t one to compare dicks with his friends, but he’s got to say that Wonwoo is definitely well-endowed. It’s no wonder that you were fucking around with him for as long as you were before finally dating the guy.

But Mingyu pushes all thoughts about that in the back of his mind, relishing in the feeling of your tight, warm cunt enveloping him in delicious heat. He groans when he manages to bury himself to the hilt—cock pulsating with each second that passes. 

“Take daddy’s cock down your throat while you let your cute little puppy fuck you stupid,” Wonwoo instructs as you open your mouth to do as you’re told. Then, when your boyfriend is sure you’ve adjusted well to Mingyu’s size, he meets his best friend’s gaze and gives him a minute nod. “Go ahead, Gyu.”

“Fuck my girlfriend just like you dreamed of doing.”

Never in Mingyu’s wildest dreams would he imagine getting to hear those words straight out of Wonwoo’s mouth, but he isn’t about to waste any more time processing the information. He simply pulls his hips back—letting you feel every inch of his engorged cock—before slamming back into you with enough force to drive Wonwoo’s dick further into your mouth.

Your moan is promptly silenced with your boyfriend’s length and Mingyu hisses as he palms at the swell of your ass. 

He’d hate to bust his load when it hasn’t even been five minutes since he’d slid himself inside you. But your pussy flutters around him so fucking good that he has to breathe in deeply to keep himself from coming too early.

“Gyu, look at me.” 

Mingyu’s momentarily puzzled by Wonwoo’s request, but he complies with a look of inquiry in his eyes. He then notices that his roommate is holding your hair up with one hand as you bob your head up and down and his phone in the other.

“We kind of have this…thing where we film ourselves during sex,” he explains. “Is it okay if I do that now? The footage will strictly stay between the three of us.”

Fuck. You film sex tapes with Wonwoo? Mingyu didn’t know it was even possible, but he just got harder inside you. 

“I-I don’t mind,” he manages to wrench out. “God, please airdrop it to me after, hyung.”

“You want a POV shot of her sucking you off, huh? Got it.” Wonwoo simpers as he unlocks his phone, tilting it high enough to get a good view of you with his cock in your mouth as Mingyu pounds you from behind. 

“What a pretty thing, getting fucked by two cocks at the same time,” he chuckles as he records the entire ordeal. “How can you ever go back to just having one, huh princess? You’re so insatiable after all.”

You’re unable to dish out a response of your own for obvious reasons, but as Wonwoo attempts to get you to deepthroat him, Mingyu presses a hand on the small of your back. Just a little so you wouldn’t lose your center of gravity, but it’s enough to make your spine arch into an angle that lets him hit it a tad bit deeper.

The reaction it incites from you is immediate and he can see Wonwoo’s smirk widen when you practically choke on his cock at the added sensation—tears gathering on your lash line because Mingyu just found your fucking g-spot. 

“Gyu’s cock is splitting you wider than you can handle, isn’t it?” your boyfriend taunts as he pushes you further against his navel. “You’ll let us finish inside you like the cumslut you are, won’t you? It’s the least you can do for tormenting Mingyu all this time.”

He says the words as if he didn’t have a hand in making Mingyu lose his mind for the better part of these last few months. But he can’t really pay much attention to his best friend’s hypocritical admissions. Not when your walls are clamping around his cock so tight, he can barely hold out even if he wanted to.

If anyone else is in his place, they wouldn’t stand a chance either. With the squelch of your cunt with each deep stroke of his cock ringing in his ears, Mingyu wants to burn it into his memory along with the sight of your cream gathering at the base of his cock every time he presses his hips flush against your ass. 

Not to mention the sight of you taking your boyfriend’s cock like a fucking champ. You haven’t once pulled away for a breather since Wonwoo slid himself inside the heat of your mouth and Mingyu can only wonder if his best friend would allow him to feel that next time.

If there’s even a next time.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Mingyu groans through gritted teeth as he feels the release sizzling beneath his skin. “Can I come inside you? Let me stuff you full?” 

Still unable to verbalize your responses, you let out another muffled noise in agreement, tears and drool sliding sloppily down your face as Wonwoo chases after his own high. 

His best friend lets out another evil chuckle. “Take all of Gyu’s cum, princess. Can’t let a single drop go to waste now, can we?” 

That’s practically the last straw for Mingyu—hips stuttering to a halt as his white hot emission shoots into your swollen cunt. You moan around Wonwoo’s cock as your boyfriend batters your throat with the head of his cock, absolutely addicted to the feeling of Mingyu’s thick cock pulsing inside you as he dumps his load. 

Just when you thought he’d collapse onto the bed right away, though, Mingyu quickly scrambles onto his back—positioning himself underneath you as he hoists your hips to nestle against his face. Finally, you let Wonwoo’s dick slip out of your mouth with a surprised, “Puppy, what are you—”

The words quickly die on your tongue when you feel Mingyu slurping the mixed essence from your pussy, eating his own cum alongside yours as he lathers your quivering slit with the mess he’s made between your thighs. 

Wonwoo lets out an amused chuckle when you struggle to take him back into your mouth again, much too distracted by the overeager Mingyu cleaning you up in the most unorthodox way possible. 

“Pretty baby’s so fucking spoiled today,” he sighs, feeling his own orgasm just a few strokes away. “You’re close aren’t you? Go ahead, baby. Come on Gyu’s mouth again and I’ll give you my load as a little present.”

Mingyu groans against your sloppy cunt as he sucks on your clit, bringing you to that high he already coaxed out of you earlier. You’re full on crying now and Wonwoo’s got everything on film. 

He just knows this’ll be a night he’ll spend countless more nights jacking off to and he feels absolutely no shame admitting it to himself.

“Fuckin’ take it all, baby,” Wonwoo rasps as he finally comes—pouring his viscous cum down your throat all while your muscles spasm from Mingyu’s unrelenting ministrations. “That’s a good girl…”

He finds it a little endearing how you both came at the same time, but then again, Mingyu figures that if you’ve been having as much sex as he thinks you had with Wonwoo, equally timed orgasms are a regular thing.

When all’s said and done, Wonwoo takes it upon himself to properly clean you up in the bathroom. He tells Mingyu that he doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t want to, but the part time model still feels partly responsible for the devastated state they both left you in.

So there you are soaking in the bathtub that comes with the hotel room’s en-suite as your boyfriend and his best friend take turns in the shower.

“I can’t believe you two played me like that for so long,” Mingyu sulks, checking his reflection in the mirror as he towels his hair. “If you wanted to have a threeway, you could’ve told me without making me go through this entire moral dilemma of wanting to fuck my best friend’s girl.”

Wonwoo chuckles from inside the shower. “Now, where’s the fun in that, Gyu?”

“Mhmm.” You giggle as you scrub your sore legs with a sponge. “It was pretty amusing seeing you so torn up, puppy. But we’ve had our fun. I promise not to tease you too much next time.”

Silence falls between the three of you and nothing but the sound of water from the showerhead hitting the floor rings in Mingyu’s ears.

“There’s gonna be a next time?” he dares to ask before glancing worriedly over at Wonwoo.

His best friend emerges from the shower with steam billowing out of the door and into the vent. Wonwoo’s wearing a casual, laid-back look on his face like this isn’t news to him.

“Yeah, remember when you mentioned me being recruited on the Worlds roster?” Wonwoo asks and Mingyu nods hesitantly. “Yeah. I actually got an email offering me a spot as a T1 trainee.”

Mingyu’s jaw nearly drops to the floor. “You’re kidding. You’ll be on the same team as Faker?”

“Hey, I’m not sure yet ‘cause I have to go to this bootcamp thing and everything,” his best friend chuckles before padding over to where you’re still lounging comfortably in the tub. “But since bootcamps take months to finish, my princess over here might feel a little lonely without me.” 

You pout when Wonwoo plants a loving kiss on your nose. “I’ll die if I don’t get fucked stupid at least every three business days.”

“I know, baby. That’s why Mingyu over here is going to keep you company while I’m gone,” Wonwoo says out loud. “Right, Mingyu?”

With two pairs of eyes on him, the part time model gulps nervously. 

It’s one thing to join them in bed to fuck you at the same time. But for Wonwoo to willingly leave his girlfriend in Mingyu’s care while he’s away for pro gamer bootcamp? 

Part of him feels like he’s skipped several steps required to get to where he is now. That the offer is way too good to be true and that the universe will pull up with a fucking gotcha moment at him one day when he least expects it.

But Wonwoo seems so sure that he’ll accept and the look in your eyes glimmers with so much hope, Mingyu couldn’t bear to deny the implicit request even if he wants to.

So, with a deep, bated breath:

“Sure thing,” he says with a toothy smile. “What are friends for, right?”

part one - part two - part three - part four

⟢ end notes: hehe you made it to the end! thank god! this was meant to be concluded in part 3, but the plot line where mingyu finds out the identity of his favorite twitter porn girl is gonna take up tens of thousands of words again and i decided that it deserved its own chapter lol i still have much in store for this throuple so i do hope you tune into their sexcapades in the future <3 your reblogs and tags and other comments inspire me to write sooo much so it'll mean the world to me if you left your thoughts for me to read hehe~ p.s. i'll add links to the masterlist and other parts for easier access later bc tumblr is stupid when it comes to showing posts with links in the tags

this is part of the game over series!

[marvel-ous-m]

After Starcourt, Steve and Robin began a new tradition- 'spa nights'. Robin would make them homemade face masks (“peaches and yogurt? On my face? That’s disgusting Robin.” “Shut up and put it on, dingus.”). They would put in a shitty tape from Family Video and Steve would paint their nails. (“How do you even know how to do this Steve?” “I’m a babysitter, Rob, it’s in the job description.”)

The school year started and Robin got a lot more busy- what with it being her senior year and all- but they still made time for spa nights. They were less frequent (maybe once a month instead of every other week), but they happened.

Vecna came, they killed the bastard, and they all lived- somehow, miraculously, certainly not unscathed, but they’re all alive. They beat him. A few months later, after the almost-end-of-the-world, Robin brought up their spa nights. (“Come on, Steve, it’s been months. My brain needs a vacation, my face needs a vacation, my nails need a vacation.”) Steve agreed, acting reluctant (but was secretly really excited to get back to one-on-one time with his best friend).

Except the kids find out, namely El and Max, and they beg Steve and Robin to join them. The two acquiesce, and then Eddie hears about it and joins the party, too. Uninvited. (But nowadays he doesn’t need an invitation. He shows up, bright personality and even brighter smile, and brings a constant, welcome addition to the party. Along with some… feelings that Steve can’t even start to try and acknowledge.)

The spa night comes and everyone crowds into Steve’s living room. Robin has put together a new face mask recipe (“ugh, what is in this?!” “Just shut your mouth and put it on, Red.”), Eddie brings his braiding skills, and Steve provides the nail polish.

Only now, his hands shake.

It’s something he’s noticed by now. The nerve damage from fighting the bats and Vecna, the 24/7 anxiety, the brain damage, something that they faced over spring break has left him with a tremor that he can’t quite get rid of. Sometimes it’s small, sometimes it’s more noticeable, and tonight… well, it’s not great.

Robin wiggles her fingers at Steve, ready for their tradition of him painting her nails, and Steve hesitates. It’s a small thing, but his shoulders tense. He hasn’t mentioned the shaking to anyone yet, and he knows that he wouldn’t be able to get the crisp, clean paint that he used to. The tremor would make itself obvious, and he just can’t face picking up the nail polish bottle. It’s a sign of the new weakness, one that he can’t admit to others, can barely admit to himself… he can’t face being seen as weak. As flawed. As-

“Hey! Are we painting nails?! Here, lemme have a go. I haven’t done it on anyone else before, always just painted my own.” Eddie interrupts Steve's train of thought in his easy way and grabs the nail polish from just below Steve’s hand. He plops down between Steve and Robin, admiring the color the later had chosen. “Robin’s Egg Blue, very fitting, Birdie.” Eddie winks at her and starts painting, accomplishing a more polished finish than Steve was ever able to get before Spring Break.

And Steve just watches. Quiet, his hands on his knees. He watches as Eddie paints Robin’s fingernails blue, then Max’s a bright red. Eddie paints Eleven’s a deep purple shade, then gives himself a fingernail in each polish that Steve has to create a rainbow of clashing colors. Afterwards, once the paint has dried, the girls all wash their face masks off and curl up to watch the shitty movie Robin had picked.

Eddie turns to Steve then, a bright yellow shade in his hands. “Want a turn, sunshine?” Eddie must’ve seen the look on Steve’s face, the flash of pain, because his voice turns to a whisper before Steve can answer. “I can help you keep your hands steady, Stevie. Don’t worry about that. Just relax and lemme treat you to a manicure.”

Steve startles at that. He thought he'd been better at hiding it. “How did you know?“

“How wouldn’t I know, Steve?” Eddie grabs Steve’s hand, a gentle but firm grip holding his fingers straight and steady. “I paid attention. I noticed. We all came away from that fight with a different scar, and we all need some extra help with different things now.” Eddie speaks as he paints, carefully brushing away any mess with the corner of his thumb. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, but I get it if you can’t tell anyone just yet. I’ll be here to help, though. Just like this. If you want it.”

Steve’s quiet still, but now in an effort to keep his emotions at bay. He’s never had anyone do… anything like this for him before. Eddie moves on to paint his other hand, and they sit in silence while the sound of the shitty rom-com washes over them, joined by the occasional giggle or mocking comment from one of the girls. Eddie does a second coat, brushes any scraps of excess paint away with an alcohol wipe, and caps the nail polish with a gentle smile.

Steve admires his nails, then glances up at Eddie, his eyes welling. “Eddie, thank you-“

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’, it’s just a paint job-“

“No really, Eddie. Thank you. For everything. For noticing. No one’s ever-“

“I’ll always notice, Stevie.” Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm, then turns slightly to watch the movie, his hip pressed against Steve’s.

Years later, in retrospect, Steve realizes that the spa night was the night he fell in love with Eddie Munson.

[kiame-sama]

Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt. 3

Warnings; spoilers for episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, toxic relationship, Alastor is not fond of disobedience, don't make deals with demons,

~~~~~~~~

"Good talk, chum!"

Alastor hummed as he moved towards the shadows, leaving behind a shaking and terrified Husker. There were many words that could be used to describe Alastor and none were more fitting than terrifying.

None knew this better than you.

"Husker," you started, emerging from where you had been waiting down the hall, "are you okay?"

The hellcat tried to pull himself together quickly and brush you off, but his shaking betrayed how truly afraid he was. When Alastor wanted to put terror into others, he didn't need to work very hard to accomplish his goal.

"Why the Hell d'you care? You're his fuckin' favorite, the fuck you know about it?"

You knew he was lashing out to protect himself, but the words almost managed to make you flinch. Luckily for the both of you, you didn't and you kept a level head. If he had seen... Still, you wanted to try and comfort the fellow lost soul ensnared by your eternal captor.

"Husker, listen to me."

Something about your firm tone made the demon pause, an almost confused and unsettled expression on his face. It was rare that you became so serious and pleading with anyone, let alone tried to actually talk to anyone for extended periods of time. Something about your tone made him want to take whatever you were going to say seriously.

"You may think you know the limits of his patience but you don't. I know them. I have seen more than you know and have been by his side for longer than you may expect. I can never share these things. I can never tell anyone what I have heard and seen. Those memories are not my secrets to share. But I can tell you some of the terms of my contact, and I hope you understand and take heed."

You were choosing your words carefully, knowing that you could only say so much before the fine-print of your contract with Alastor silenced you. Parroting one of the key lines of your contract even as you navigated your way through the red-tape and fine print. Alastor made sure to create a rather finely crafted contract to outline your deal with him and you had plenty of time to read over it again and again.

"Expected and Required are the same thing. I am expected to remain by Alastor's side until he doesn't want me to be. I am expected to do what is asked of me by Alastor and no one else. I am expected to keep what I see and hear a secret unless Alastor wishes for me to speak on the matter. I am expected to remember the primary terms of every contract I have seen. And I have to say, Husker, I know better than anyone what chains can bind some overlords."

Husker seemed confused for a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition before shifting to curiosity. You could only hope that he gathered the information you wanted to give him without having directly said it.

"You were there for my deal, weren't you?"

"I cannot say. Those are not my secrets to share."

"But where were you? I thought it was just me an' him. Unless... Hells, you're his microphone, aren't you?"

"I am expected to be by his side until he doesn't want me to be."

"You've been around long enough to see my deal, you must have seen so many other deals too. Why do you stay with him? Ain't there any kind of freedom to your deal?"

"My deal was made to keep me safe from other demons. It... Evolved into what it is now. I stay safe and in return I do as my deal says, no questions. That is what I agreed to. Look, Husker, all I am saying is your leash could be tighter, your chains could be heavier, and you could have far less freedoms than you have now. Don't squander it over someone like Mimzy."

"I just know she is bad news! But he won't listen."

"I know she is bad news too and I admit, I hate her. Every time she shows up she uses him and thinks she has some kind of control over him because he lets her get away with this nonsense."

You sighed and tried to smile at Husker, feeling the wry and strained grin become more of a grimace. It was true that you strongly disliked the woman that only appeared when she needed help and you knew she didn't like you either. Mimzy had obvious feelings for Alastor and she hated the fact that you were close to him when she so desperately wanted to be in your place.

"Husker, I can't say I like you- he doesn't like competition of any kind- but I don't want you killed or hurt. You are a better person than you claim to be and we both know it. Just know that though he doesn't like your tone, he does hear you and your concerns."

"Listen, (y/n), maybe if we talk to Charlie about your deal, she can-"

You sharply stood from where you had been kneeling by his side, already knowing where the conversation was going and not wanting either of you to get hurt by the blowback. If Husker finished his sentence, odds are Alastor would not hesitate to rip his soul to shreds for daring to try and break the deal you had. There was no way you were going to let such a thing happen and that meant you had to make it clear to Husker as well.

"No. I am happy with my deal. I would never say anything to the contrary or try to get out of my deal with Alastor. Besides, I have seen too much and know too much for him to ever let me go peacefully. That level of blood and retribution is far too high a price. Don't suggest it again, Husker, or we will both be in trouble for it. Please, just trust me to-"

The way your voice died in your throat with a slight choke let the demon know you said as much as you could. Though there was more you wished to say, you could feel your own leash tighten in a clear warning and you knew then he had been listening. Odds are, Alastor had been listening to the whole thing and he was not pleased with your attempts to get around his gag order. It was also clear to you that Alastor was likely testing you by letting Husker get as far as he did in his questioning.

A chill ran down your back and you saw your fellow demon's eyes widen as he stared behind you. The clawed hand of the Radio Demon rest on your shoulder, his head leaning over so you could barely see his threatening grin in your peripheral view. You could feel his shadows crawling over your skin and around you as he casually asserted control over both you and Husker.

"Now, now. Whatever could you two possibly be discussing? It wouldn't happen to be about the rules you know you can't discuss, right?"

"Of course not, Alastor. We both know that they aren't my secrets to share even if I wanted to, which I don't. I am simply informing him from one damned soul to another that trying to rile you is a bad idea."

A soft growl could be heard from Alastor and you could feel the slight brush of his antlers against your head as his annoyance grew. As far as you knew, you hadn't said anything to upset him and you had not breached the terms of your contract. But the way his hand tightened on your shoulder told you Alastor was unhappy about something and you were terrified what that would mean for Husker.

"I have told you what to call me many times now, (y/n). I do not appreciate your continued failure to heed my instruction."

It then dawned on you why Alastor was irritated and in some ways it was ridiculous to you. He was upset because you called him Alastor and not a pet name as he had requested. Honestly, you had forgotten entirely about something so trivial, but you also knew Alastor was a stickler for details.

"Dear, I feel there is a time and place for terms of endearment and they have no place in serious discussion."

"That is for me to decide and you to obey. Do not presume such things again, Sugar. Now, what is this about you hating Mimzy?"

"She is only here to try and use you, we all know that. I don't like her casual attempts at controlling you and I know she dislikes me as well."

"I don't care what she thinks of you, it is not her decision if I keep you with me or not. Now, I would hope you know better than to question me, because I doubt you want to spend another half a decade locked away again. Do I make myself clear, Honey?"

"... Yes, Darling."

Alastor was quick to disappear once more into shadow, leaving both you and Husker to stare at one another in silence. You both knew he likely didn't go far and that he was always watching whatever it was you chose to do. With this constant observation in mind, you did your best to keep your actions to a minimum and to keep any backlash from hurting Husker.

"We both know what our place is. It would be best that we don't question it. I'm truly sorry for the pain you feel, Husker, but we made our choices. Be happy your choice gives you some kind of freedom."