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neowinestainedress · 1 year

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Hellooo rebs, i’m back!!

you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this and I’m so happy to finally know your opinion.

Omg I feel even worse now i really made you wait so much, i’m really sorry ☹

graduation is close and I don’t know if I’ll be able to see the dream so manifest for me, pls.

YOU ARE GRADUATING SOON???? OH MY GOOD IM SOOOOO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!! and don’t worry i’m 100% sure you will be able to see them, sending you all my positive energy to you<3

And you saw 127???? So close to the stage??? How was it???

LISTEN i've been the MOST annoying person about it on my cf like the amount of things i've posted about the concert someone needs to stop me😭 but i really can't describe the happiness i felt during that concert like i'm really in this nct shit for life... THE ARE SO SO SO PRETTY AND UNREAL?? I HAD TO STOP EVERY 5 SECONDS AND SAY TO MYSELF "WAIT THEY ARE REAL AND I'M SEEING THEM IRL" their voices are also INSANE they're truly SINGERS. ALSO of course i already knew how beautiful they are but TAEYONG??? LEE TAEYONG WTF? HE´S TOO.FUCKING.PRETTY NO CAMERA CAN CAPTURE WHAT MY EYES SAW LIKE HIS BEAUTY OMG? I DON'T THINK ENOUGH PEOPLE TALK ABOUT IT (this opinion is totally unbiased, he's not even my (main?) bias wrecker) LIKE I FUCKING GET IT i get why he's the center.

About my experience... I GOT NOTICED BY JAEHYUN AND JOHNNY 😭😭😭😭 the johnny one i even have the video: i screamed "JOHNNYYYYYY" and he looked straight at ME and you can hear the girls around me saying OMG HE LOOKED AT YOU + i also have a pic where he is (kinda? at least with an eye shfkdjskfk) looking at my phone while they were singing highway to heaven (one of mark too 😳while they were singing promise you if i remember correctly). Now about jaehyun... taeil was saying his ment and there was like a 2 seconds pause of complete silence so i screamed "JAEHYUNNNNNNN", he was looking the other way so he turned his head and looked at me (i'm sure he only saw my silhouette since he's blind) for a second and i was so SHOCKED that i tried to take a picture, video or ANYTHING but when i checked they were blurry or i was pointing at the floor or similar but i PROMISE it actually happened 😭 the girls around me saw it too. And the last important thing that happened to me: I GOT A PIECE OF TAEYONG'S SHIRT 😭😭 i have the video of that moment cause they were saying their ments when suddenly taeyong took his shirt off and it landed like 3 people away from me so everyone who were in front of us backed off? at that moment i swear i thought i was going to die we literally had to held hands with the people beside me to make a human wall?? and not falling backwards. Then the concert ended and i got trapped in the circle around the girl who had the shirt i was literally being choked and my haechan banner got all wrinkle because of it :( my hand even got stuck in a girls jacket and because of that i got to touch a big piece of shirt that the girl gave to a boy (he was trying to give little pieces to everyone but no one had something sharp to cut it) and i touched the tag of the shirt (it was from the collar-shoulder part)... a minute later they were able to cut the shirt and the boy saw me struggling and said here! and gave me a little piece... the funny thing was that a girl beside who also got a piece said that it smelled good so i was like "..." and i smelled it and it smelled so good (a mixture between fabric softener and like a clean male perfume?) later on i realized the piece had like a yellow stain on it so i guess that was taeyong's sweat 😭😭... and basically that was my concert experience (i'm ignoring the fact that i couldn't see haechan AGAIN like you don't imagine how sad i was when i found out he wasn't coming (AGAIN) because he was sick (i actually didnt care he wasn't coming i was just so fucking sad that he was (and still) is sick i was so worried... so i'm gaslighting myself that haechan is just part of my imagination and that's why he didn't come)

ANYWAYS back to business: THE TRAITOR SERIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The whole problem was that Hyuck took her for granted and didn’t cherish her anymore because she was always going to be there (in his mind)

and FUCK HIM for that!

NOOOO this is another reminder that your ex is not Haechan he's not worth it

trust me i know how much of an asshole he is like he even had the audacity to greet me for my birthday...

it would’ve turned toxic for him at some point, while now they can be friends (they are, they actually have a double date every Saturday, I know I'm the sky)

it kinda was toxic already so PEOPLE DO YOU REALLY LOVE JENO??? DO YU REALLY WANT THAT FOR HIM? and i can confirm they are friends i'm actually the floor

No cause mood ??? the first what are we? from him and I'll be like Idk your dog? That’s fine by me

LITERALLY ME i could be whatever he wants me to be if that means i get railed by him!

Yeah… ‘I don’t like that falling feels like flying til the bone crush’ and so you never even try to fly…

STOP WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS😭😭😭

HELP NOT ME HAVING YOUR LIFE WRITTEN DOWN FOR THE WHOLE WORLD TO READ

I FEEL EXPOSED SHFDJKSHFK NO BUT REALLY HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO KNOW MY ENTIRE LIFE

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero… I guess

you know when taylor said "i'll do anything to bring up selena gomez ANYTHING!" that's us but with taylor and LOVE it

You dragging #teamjeno in the mud for me because I can’t say anything /j No but seriously, she never loved him. Liked him? Sure. Was she comfortable with him? Yes. But a relationship that was as deep as he wanted it to be? Absolutely nope.

At the end of the day it's me, haechan and mc againts the world (team jeno)...

I thought that especially with this it was clear that she wasn’t the naïve little girl at the start and knew what she was doing but apparently it wasn’t clear enough idk

AND IT WAS CLEAR i just think some people were a bit too biased for jeno and blinded by their hate for haechan that they kinda ignored that mc actually changed for better and she wasn't the same girl from the start

This is so funny because I wrote this last part thinking about your reactions (I’m sorry) and the main reason I had to lead them both so much and drag her decision for so long was because I wanted to keep you on the edge I’M SO SORRY

YOU ARE ACTUALLY THE EVIL IN PERSON AND I LOVE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT! like i know i'm all dramatic shaking and crying and with my stomach full of knots and shit but sometimes you just need a good lil angst also there's this quote we use in spanish as a meme: "el que tenga miedo a morir que no nazca" (whoever is scared to die might as well not be born) which i think fits exactly with this!

Unfortunately it’s not always easy to do the right thing, and I think outer people shouldn’t judge if someone has a hard time getting out of a bad relationship. We are human after all and we don't always love what is good for us

RIGHT! i get this is a ff so you could have made the characters perfect with a perfect ending but that's not how it works irl and that's why i loved even more this series because i could actually relate to all the characters even if it was a little bit. if you want something not realistic GO READ A FANTASY FIC OR SOMETHING AND STFU (i was writing this and haechan just sent messages on bubble... he literally said FUCK EVERYONE WHO IS #TEAMJENO!!)

I KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN IN THIS PART I WILL PAY THERAPY

ARE MAKING FUN OF MY PAIN AM I JOKE TO YOU REBS???

I FEEL LIKE SHIT NOW MAYBE THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH CAN I SEND YOU HAECHAN AT HOME AS PAYBACK?

EXACTLY that's the ONLY way i'm forgiving you

In my mind this story was much bigger than just #teamjeno or #teamhaechan, it wouldn’t have been fair for Jeno if she chose him out of spite and it would’ve been toxic if she took Haechan back immediately without making it clear that she now knew her value and as much as she loved him she wouldn’t have started crawling on the floor to get some attention. I know everyone is entitled to have their own opinion and I respect that, it just makes me a bit sad when people don’t get her character (like I don’t even care about being team Jeno or Haechan) is just that I can’t sit here and read that MY BABY is weak or a loser, she WAS a loser in 'enough for you' but I’m sure I gave her a character development. I think it's fine to not agree with her choice, probably if I was in her situation in real life I would've picked Jeno (honestly, I would've been alone because why would I date someone that loves me while I don't love them back?) but this is fiction, it's made up, and people can change truly unlike people irl so I don't see nothing wrong with giving chances in a story even if you wouldn't do the in the real world. Like you are the first example, what have I been saying to you? Don't let your ex put you down and don't take him back if 80% of the time you end up being hurt in some way, and your story is almost a copy of theirs.

i totally get your idea that the story was bigger than any team and i agree. to me this series were about the fact they were humans and they fuck things up just like us (some more than others i'm looking at you haechan...) but they also got to learn about their mistakes and weakness and as i said before even tho i was rooting for haechan (since he's my bias and i literally requested a fic about him) i would have been happy with the ending even if she picked jeno or ended up alone because i think every ending had a positive and negative side and especially since you developed so well the characters i grow fond of them that i felt like they were my own friends<3 and also FUCK WHOEVER INSULTS OUR BABY!!! i will fight EVERYONE if that means i'm defending her!!!!!!!!! and yes people need to relax a bit and realize this isn't real life this is just a fanfic and anything can happen. Let people dream!!! as you know my story was very similar to this so PLEASE let me be happy and let mc pick haechan since i didn't get back with my ex (the only good decision i made honestly sjhxdsjkf)

It’s Haechan if he wants he can have me on a leash I wouldn’t complain (just kidding… unless). Can’t relate i’m too lazy you won’t catch these words slip from my mouth (with Haechan…maybe…MAYBE)

for haechan i would do ANYTHING idc i'm a simply girl i see haechan and i simp

And now the general reply (we both write so much help)

i literally started writing this at 1 am and now is 3:04 am... (update: i finished at 4:15 am)

It makes me so happy to know you loved it so much, mainly because I unknowingly wrote so much about you (it’s creepy but cute at the same time). I’ll be honest with you, I wrote this part for you.

STOP YOU'RE MAKING ME BLUSH AND CRY RIGHT NOW. you don't know how happy this fic made me feel (not me saying after crying 72642791527 times every time i read the series) but i swear i've never related so much to a character in my life, like her personality, friends, love story, everything was so similar to what happened to me so it was really comforting to be able to feel so much while reading it, this fic literally gave me the opportunity to feel sad for myself because it kinda was like reading my story but from another point of view? so i let myself cry whenever i felt like it (instead of what i did when this happened to me irl, i mean ofc i cried back then but after a week maybe? i didn't let myself cry anymore because i felt i was being too dramatic and ridiculous so yeah i'm sorry if this sounds too narcissistic i promise i'm not) really, THANK YOU SO MUCH REBS i can't explain how thankful i am for this, truly

At first, I was very tore between Jeno and Haechan but then I went with my heart (Jeno wasn’t even supposed to be a love interest, it just happened) and then I wanted to make it like you, the one who requested it, wanted it. I know it reached a lot of people (too many, I wasn’t expecting so much love for this fic and series) but without you, I wouldn’t have ever written it so in my mind it was like a gift to you because I poured so much love into these three (+ special Renjun mention, he will always be famous) so I owed you a happy ending.

REBS STOP YOU WILL MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO SO SO SO SWEET I DON'T DESERVE YOU. Seriously, thank you so much for taking the time to write what i asked for (really, how cool and sweet is that<3). You're such a talented writer and every fic that i've read from you is a masterpiece, you never fail to make me feel so many emotions. finding you was the best thing EVER! and the fact that you could have even killed mc if you wanted but you decided to make me happy OH IM REALLY ABOUT TO CRY the more i think of it the more i want to cry this is literally the sweetest things someone has ever made for me. You literally didn't owe me anything so again THANK YOU SO MUCH I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS HOW THANKFUL I AM and yes RENJUN YOU WILL ALWAYS BE THE BEST CHARACTER YOU'RE LITERALLY A STAR!

I’d love to read the Spanish rant but my Spanish is in very critical condition so let’s stick to English, trust me I can feel how much you love this. Just taking so much time to send me such a detailed analysis makes me so happy and I feel so full of love, I don’t think you truly get how much I loved reading your comments through the whole series and yes, I’m sad too it ended ☹ But I’m happy you got everything I wanted to convey, I knew you would’ve understood my baby (babies… all three of them I love them all for different reasons)

trust me you can't even understand the magnitude of my love and gratitude i feel towards you and this series if i could kiss your brain right now i would!!! and don't worry i won't go anywhere and i will keep annoying you with my very long comments and supporting all your works (i have so much to catch on btw). only hot people got the message you wanted to convey (jk i'm actually the opposite of hot i'm the ugliest person in this planet). and yes they're also MY BABIES (i love them all so much)

I hope you’ll love my future fic as well (+ remember that ask you sent about academic rivals to lovers? I might have started to write it, it will surely take some time but I love the idea too much to don’t even give it a try and maybe this one won’t break your heart so much) and I have two other Haechan fics planned (one it’s almost done and the other is still in the drafts) so I hope you'll like them too.

OFC I WILL REBS! WHAT.THE.FUCK.ARE.YOU.KIDDING.ME??? ?)(/)&%$8%#E4 I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THAT IM SO EXCITED NOW!!!! and don't worry you can break my heart all you want with your fics because it will always be worthy since they are literally perfect. TWO OTHER HAECHAN FICS TOO?? OMG I MUST HAVE SAVED THE WORLD IN MY PAST LIFE OR SOMETHING

ps: it's YOUR fault my Haechan fever worsened because now I can only write about him

hehe what can i say i guess my spread haechan (obsession) to the world agenda worked! like that man has me on a chokehold that i can only think about him

ALSO one last thing that i wanted to say in relation to that anon... i think people are projecting too much in a silly little fic<3 (i'm the one to talk lmaoo but LISTEN). i know i also projected in the characters since as i said before i related a little too much, but at the end of the day i know this is a fic and they are not real and what i read is what happened and that's it like if it says haechan was trying to gain her back THAT'S WHAT IT WAS HE WASN'T MANIPULATING HER TO LIKE HIM BACK LIKE FROM WHERE DID YOU GET THAT??? IT'S NOT LIKE HE HAD AN EVIL PLAN BEHIND HER BACK OR SOMETHING. HAVE YOU NEVER LIKED SOMEONE BEFORE? i can totally like someone and do sweet things for them because i care about them so i'm trying to make them feel special and show them how much they mean to me and hopefully they like me back after seeing my efforts so tell me anon please enlighten me in what way is that manipulating to you? like why would the end be dark i truly don't get it... especially since they really talked about what happened to me, what he wanted, how they felt, etc., and as you (rebs) said he even accepted the fact that he couldn't force her to take him back so he let her go.

okay that was it, it kinda pissed me off so i'm sorry if i sounded rude lol (i was actually trying to be /hj)

take care rebs, wishing you have a good week, thank you again so much, ilysm<3

-💌

Hi, again!!! And noooo, don't feel sorry, I was just really curious to know about your opinion but I know life gets busy and also you give such detailed feedback I'd rather wait for it than get nothing at all, so it's fine.

Yeah... my graduation is the day of the pre-sale for the dream concert ASK ME IF I HATE MY LIFE? I hope there will be something left for the 3rd

BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT YOU?!?!?!? I'm so so happy you got to have fun at this concert and that it didn't end up in a mess like the other time. Also are you Miss y/n??? Noticed by Johnny, Jaehyun and go a piece of Taeyong's shirt??? You were collecting them all I'm screaming for you

Taeyong IS crafted by God himself like I know, actually I was there when he was creating him. The most handsome man on earth I'm sorry, he's just perfect.

(i'm sure he only saw my silhouette since he's blind)

I’M SCREAMING HE GIVES YOU THE Y/N TREATMENT AND YOU REPAY HIM LIKE THIS AJDDJFOS

OMYGOD YOU GOT A PIECE OF THE SHIRT YOU WERE AMONG THE ONES BLESSED BY GOD I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU it reminds me of when I had to fight for my life to get the signed ball during The Origin, to be honest, I grabbed it but two girls RIPPED it away from my hands and I almost fell so I was like ‘nah, not risking my life for a signed ball’, my friend that came with me is still pissed about it lmao. At least the guy next to you was nicer.

No but it’s true you didn’t get to see Hyuck TWICE!!! LORD THAT WOULD BE MY VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY AAAAA (plot twist: you'll meet him casually one day and he will fall in love) And yes, the last hiatus worried me so much, like heart's problems and sm wasn't doing anything??? Why do they always end up in those conditions to get some rest (and... rest, now... I don't want to talk about it or I'll be MAD)

Now let's get into the happier madness

trust me i know how much of an asshole he is like he even had the audacity to greet me for my birthday...

I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy unless of course, we’re talking about my enemy 💌 anon’s ex, fuck you 💌 anon’s ex, you KNOW what you did

it kinda was toxic already so PEOPLE DO YOU REALLY LOVE JENO??? DO YU REALLY WANT THAT FOR HIM? and i can confirm they are friends i'm actually the floor

RIGHT??? you and me two agents undercover in the sour universe like perry the platypus

I FEEL EXPOSED SHFDJKSHFK NO BUT REALLY HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO KNOW MY ENTIRE LIFE

Cause I’m a mastermind? Cause I’m just insane? Guess we will never know

you know when taylor said "i'll do anything to bring up selena gomez ANYTHING!" that's us but with taylor and LOVE it

No cause why is this true??? It’s so embarrassing (no, not really I’m proud and it’s not our fault she has a song for EVERYTHING)

Yeah I think that too at this point because especially after re-reading some bits through your aks I’m SURE I made everything clear

SORRY NOT SORRY AND YES!! I totally agree and the quote fits perfectly

Haechan might avoid every concert you go to but when it’s time to be against #teamjeno he’ll be LOUD AND CLEAR love him for that

ARE MAKING FUN OF MY PAIN AM I JOKE TO YOU REBS???

I could never 😌😌😌 I just deeply thought of you while planning your digital and emotional murder

I knew you could see the vision. It's kinda like the folklore triangle, three young people trying to navigate life and their feelings and their own persona and it's obvious someone is going to get hurt. But the important thing is to talk about it and make sure nobody is hurting anymore. And yeah, mc get behind me I will fight for you til the day I die.

It makes me so happy to know that somehow – unconsciously – I helped you and especially that you finally let go of all the emotions you held back. I feel you because I also go overdramatic when something happens and then pretend everything is fine but yeah, not the healthiest thing ever...

me rn:

only hot people got the message you wanted to convey (jk i'm actually the opposite of hot i'm the ugliest person in this planet). and yes they're also MY BABIES (i love them all so much)

WRONG I’M SURE YOU’RE THE PRETTIES HOTTEST BESTEST like a good person like you can’t be ugly outside and I'm always right

I COULDN’T FORGET ABOUT IT BUT BACK THEN I WAS TOO BURNED OUT TO EVEN THINK ABOUT IT AND NOW IT'S (SLOWLY) COMING TO LIFE. And yeah, I personally love the one that I think will be the next fic to come out and it's my first time writing Haechan as a good person through the whole story lmao

hehe what can i say i guess my spread haechan (obsession) to the world agenda worked! like that man has me on a chokehold that i can only think about him

YES YES IT'S WORKING. He's always been a bias but he was minding his business but NOOO now I'm into a spiral of madness

Yes!!! that’s exactly what I don’t understand. Their story was definitely toxic before but then they cut it off and grew. I feel like manipulation is such a heavy word to use in this context that's why I would’ve liked at least an insight of their view to at least try to understand where it was coming from because that’s not how I write manipulative characters. HAVE YOU NEVER LIKED SOMEONE BEFORE? Is sending me but yeah when you love someone you try to do everything to prove it, also she gave him the 'mission' to prove her he still loved her, if she would’ve said ‘no, you can’t try to win me back’ the first time they talked (seriously) again, he wouldn’t have done all that.

take care too, honey!!! love you ♡

#anon answered #💌 anon #fic: happier #series: sour universe

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magma1000 · 3 years

Text

A thing. Y’know?

#artists on tumblr #im working on more art #this ain’t the best #I know #and it’s kinda blurry #Sorry #Magma #Retro??#vaporwave aesthetic #new background I suppose #Background?#banner?

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shroud-ish · 2 years

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hey i think ur content is rlly cool, can i request a reader who is dating selever and they get into an argument and he accidentally hits them and how he would act

thx :3

Of course! Thanks for the request Anon <3 Sorry, I went kinda overboard, ha...

Credits: Banner - @stoatter

Summary: You came home from a bad day at school, and Sel's antics were starting to piss you off, but you never anticipated this would happen... Warnings: Choking

A/n: If you are struggling with abuse of any kind, PLEASE call 911 or call any hotline available. (800-799-7233) You are not alone! I love you all, stay safe <3

=======================================

You really didn't remember how this had started. Maybe it was because you were in a bad mood, and his clingy behavior just pushed you over the edge, or maybe it was something else. It didn't matter right now though. You needed to figure out a way to get out of this situation, right now.

"Can you stop being so fucking whiny? I just need some quiet for a minute, Sel."

You said, dropping your bag and running a hand through your hair. You were fully pissed at this point.

"I'm not fucking whiny! You're the one who complains about every minor inconvenience because 'My life is sOoOoo hard!~'"

You gritted your teeth, clenching your fist in a desperate attempt not to yell at him, or say anything you'd regret. However, when he started mocking you, you simply snapped.

"SHUT UP! This is why nobody likes you!"

You yelled, and you saw him stop from the corner of your eye. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand, watching him slowly turn around to face you. His teeth were gritted, his fist clenched, and an evil-seeming aura radiated from him. "S- Sel, I'm sorry, I didn't mean!-"

You were cut off by a hang roughly grabbing your wrist, slamming you into the wall. You coughed, using your other arm to cover your face, but you were too slow. His other hand made its way to your neck, grabbing you and cutting off your air.

"What the hell did you just say to me?"

He whispered, and a chill ran down your spine, as his grip around your neck tightened. "S- sel, please I- s- stop..." You choked, feeling tears well up in your eyes. It seemed to you like he didn't hear you, still tightening his grip around your throat.

Everything was a blur. You could barely hear him yelling at you, feeling the lightheadedness creep in. You squeezed your eyes shut, grabbing his arm with both of your hands, trying to pull him off you.

"SELEVER!" You choked, beads of tears running down your cheeks, feeling his grip loosen a bit. You watched as his eyes widened, suddenly letting you go. You inhaled sharply, your vision a bit blurry as you sank to the floor, panting.

"R- roachy, I..."

He muttered, covering his mouth with his hands.

"I'm a monster..."

He choked, stepping back. "Sel, <cough> A- are you okay? What happened?" You were a bit concerned at this point. He never acted like this. You reached out your hand to him, and he jumped back.

"N- no, I... I didn't mean it... I didn't mean it! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I... I'm so so sorry..." He softly spoke to himself, sinking to the ground and gripping at the roots of his hair. "H- hey, Sel, Sel! Stop it, you're hurting yourself..." You murmured, crawling over to him and gently holding his hand.

"Get away from me, I- I don't wanna hurt you..." He said, scootching back, hitting the end of a piece of furniture. "Sel, you're not gonna hurt me. Look, see? I'm fine, it's just a scratch, please..." You said softly, gripping his hand in yours. He slowly let go of his hair, letting his arm fall to his side while avoiding your gaze.

"I never meant to hurt ya, roachy... You know that, right? I'm sorry, I-" You cut him off by wiggling your way into his arms, snuggling into his chest. "Yeah, I know. Sorry for snapping at you, love," You spoke, your voice muffled by his hoodie. He sighed in relief, running one of his hands through his hair, and wrapping his other arm tightly around you. "Nah, s' my fault. I hurt you, I'm sorry. Wanna go get ice cream...?" He suggested, and you chuckled. "Yeah sure, why not."

=======================================

Phew, that was a handful! Sorry for not posting that much, I've been busy with school and traveling, haha. I'll try to post as often as I can, though! Again, if you are struggling with abuse, please call any hotline available to you, or 911.

Once again, requests are heavily encouraged, as I have no creativity whatsoever. If you have any requests, please read my intro page where I list my rules and fandoms. Thank you! <3

-☁️Shroud☁️

#self insert #fnf #fnf selever #mid fight masses #selever #selever fnf #x reader #gender neutral reader #selever x reader

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

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Of Kings and Beasts - Four

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrusted to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Injuries, Fluff, SPOILER AND TRIGGER WARNING: miscarriage,

Word Count: 3K

A/n: I took a nap so this is a little late, but I hope you guys enjoy!!! Also, I sprained my good wrist at work yesterday lmao so now I’ve got a brace on each wrist. Anywho, here you go! Have a wonderful night!!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND VERY DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

~*~

You spend nearly every free moment with the King now.

He is at your door every morning, waiting to escort you to breakfast, of which he provides all the conversation. Afternoon tea is spent together as well as dinner, all of which you go to simply because you do not have the energy to fight.

However, you would be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company.

He tells you tales of his battles and stories of him and Steven when they were children. He explains the story of how he lost his arm but doesn’t let you see more than his metal fingers.

You find yourself missing him in the moments when he is not with you. And he feels the same. Although you haven’t said a word to him, your presence is one that he longs to have in the moments when you are not with him.

He hasn’t come to you at night yet. Still far too ashamed of his behaviour, and for that you’re grateful. You’re not sure if you could handle being with him in such a way again. Not yet, anyway.

“I hope you like the flowers I sent you. I do not know which types are your favourite, but my mother was partial to daisies so I thought perhaps you may like them as well.” He looks nervous as he pours you a cup of tea.

“If you do not, I shall have them taken back and new ones will be brought until I figure out which are your favourite.” You bite your bottom lip, wanting to speak the single word to tell him which flowers you prefer, but after so much silence you’re not sure you’d recognize your own voice.

He hisses, the teapot nearly dropping down to the table, and you jump, looking up at him in surprise.

“I apologize. My shoulder has been acting up with the coming winter. It does not do well in the cold.” You raise your eyebrows in question and he sighs. “They did their best to fix it, but the nerves are not all proper and there is a fair amount of damage beneath the scarring.”

You hesitantly rise to your feet and walk over to his side of the table, your fingers trembling as you reach for his left shoulder. He stands tall, eyes focused on you as you cup his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt.

Your eyes ask the question that your lips cannot, and he nods. Your shaking fingers move to the buttons of his shirt and you slowly pop one open, then another, and another, until he stands before you with his shirt open.

A shaky exhale leaves your lips as your eyes roam his muscular torso. He’s built beautifully, and you can’t stop yourself from touching the warm skin of his chest.

He inhales sharply and your eyes snap up to his, hand jumping off of his skin.

“Your touch... it feels nice,” he whispers in explanation, smiling softly at you as you lift your fingers back to his chest. You press your hand against him, his heat warming you to your bones, and the thrumming of his heart pounds against your palm.

Slowly as to not startle him, you move your hand up to his left shoulder, pushing the fabric of his shirt away and down his arms in the process.

Your eyes widen a bit at the scars covering where metal meets flesh, and you can’t help but feel sorry for the man before you.

Soft fingers brush over the angry skin and James sighs, his eyes falling closed. He hasn’t felt the softness of a woman’s touch in... years.

One of his hands instinctively comes to your waist and you freeze for a moment before realizing back into his touch.

This is easily the most intimate moment the two of you have shared.

You slowly lean forward and press a gentle kiss to the scars, repeating the action when you hear the noise of appreciation coming from his lips.

After a moment more and a few lingering kisses, you pull back. His other hand has found your waist and his thumbs are rubbing gentle circles against your hips.

“This is how we should’ve started our marriage,” he whispers, his eyes shut tightly. He peaks one eye open in time to catch you nodding.

“How I have treated you... it is something I am not sure I will ever be able to properly apologize for. I do hope that one day we will grow to love each other. I... You have not spoken, and yet I am already finding myself entranced by you.” You raise your eyebrows in surprise and he chuckles, one of his hands moving to the small of your back. He pulls you flush against his chest and you gasp softly, the warmth of his body seeping into your skin through the layers of your dress.

“I should have been gentle with you.” His nose dips down and traces gently over your throat.

“I should have treated you like the delicate flower you are. Instead... I deprived you of sunlight and water and forced you to wilt. I only hope... that with the proper care... I can nurse you back to the beautiful bloom you once were.” His lips press a kiss to your throat and you sigh, fingers splayed on his hard chest.

You slowly bring one hand up, shaky fingers threading through his thick hair.

“I-” The door bursting open cuts you off, much to the King’s dismay.

“What is it?!” He snarls, glaring at the intruder. Natalia and Samuel stand in the doorway, Nat smiling widely at the two of you.

“He’s here.” Your stomach drops and you look over at your Husband.

The anger on his face melts away and he takes a half step away from you.

“He... You’re sure?” You can hear the hope in his voice. The absolute unfiltered desperation. Nat nods, Sam copying the motion.

“They’ve brought him to see Doctor Banner, but he was awake and on his feet. From what I gather, he escaped from where we went searching and walked back. He’s... he��s here. He’s alive.” Glossy blue eyes turn to you and you smile softly, nodding at him.

“I promise I will come and get you as soon as I know he is in stable condition. I know he is beyond eager to meet you, so much so that he will put his own health aside.” He leans forward and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before running out of the room, following behind Sam.

Natalia stands in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and a small smile on her lips.

“Come. Wanda has drawn you a bath in preparation for the King’s return.” You and her walk to your chambers in silence, you pondering all that has happened in the span of a few minutes and what awaits you with the return of the King. Nat, on the other hand, is proud of the change in the dynamic of you and James. It’s about damn time he realized what he has in front of him, in her opinion.

The bath is lovely and smells of lavender, however, it does little to ease your nerves.

What if King Steven doesn’t like you? What if King James goes back to treating you badly? What if-

“Stop worrying, Your Majesty. King Steven will love you. And if his behaviour today is anything to go off of, King James will not go back to how he used to be.” You look over at Nat, fear in your eyes and she smiles gently.

“What happened with the King today?” Wanda asks curiously.

“When we got word of King Steven’s return, Sam and I ran to find James. We... interrupted what looked like a tender moment between the King and Her Majesty. And before he left he kissed her in front of both of us.” Wanda raises her eyebrows, a smile on her face.

“Well, I would agree with Nat on this one then. King James has truly been different towards you. One might even say that he has been kind.” You nod in agreement, happy to have gotten one of your questions answered.

“Come now, let us get you dressed.”

You step out of the tub and Nat inhales sharply, her eyes on your rounded tummy.

“Your Majesty...?” You wrap yourself in a towel and give her a nod, letting her know that her assumption is correct.

“Have you told his majesty yet?”

You shake your head ‘no’ then sigh, gently stroking your stomach.

They dress you in a lilac gown that is fairly tight around your midsection. Tight enough to show off the little bump you’ve grown if anyone were to look long enough.

"The Kings will be thrilled! You must tell them today!” Nat exclaims, her face alight with glee. The edges of your vision get blurry and you shake your head, both at her and to try and clear your sight.

“It is up to you, your Majesty but I would recommend doing it soon.” You simply nod, one hand on your stomach gently.

A knock on the door nearly startles you out of your skin.

“The Kings have asked for the Queen,” a male voice says. You exchange nervous glances with the two women, however, they smile encouragingly despite the situation.

You take a deep breath and lift your head up high, determined to make a better impression on King Steven than you did on King James.

Natalia walks with you towards King Steven’s room, the room that the Kings shared before one of them was lost.

As you’re descending the staircase you stop, hand gripping the railing so tightly you’re surprised it doesn’t break.

“Your Majesty?” Nat questions, confused and concerned.

You open your mouth to tell her you need Doctor Banner, but nothing comes out. No, instead, you collapse right there on the stairs.

“Your Majesty!” Nat shouts, diving down to stop you from falling down the stairs any more than you already have.

“Someone help!” She shouts, holding your head gently in her lap to protect your neck.

Guards are rushing in, shock colouring their features as they see their Queen on the stairs unconscious.

“Pietro, carry the Queen back to her chambers and have Wanda gather water for her. I need to find Doctor Banner.”

~*~

There are tears in the King’s eyes as soon as he sees his husband.

Steve sits on his bed, eyes trained on the doorway while doctor Banner cleans some of his wounds. As soon as the two are in the same room Steve is on his feet.

“Buck,” he whispers. The brunet takes slow steps forward before reaching out and cupping his cheeks.

“Steve.” It comes out almost like a whimper and the blond frowns.

“I’m here, my love. I’m back.” They embrace tightly, the brunet’s shoulders shaking as he tries to control his sobs.

“Your Majesties... I need to tend to King Steve’s wounds,” Doctor Banner says softly. James pulls away and nods, sitting down on the bed beside his husband.

The two simply gaze at each other for a long moment before Steve finally speaks.

“Is she here?” James nods, a small smile on his lips. “She is. And she is everything we’ve wanted and more. I fear I have not been kind to her, but we are rebuilding our relationship.” Steve nods, his hand held tightly in both of James’.

“The King will require much rest before he sees anyone. I know it is hard, but he has undergone a lot. I will have food brought to him, but right now all he needs is rest.” The two Kings nod, content to spend time with each other and forget about the world, if only for one night.

Any semblance of peace is shattered, however, by Natalia throwing the door open.

“Doctor Banner, it’s the Queen. Sh-she’s taken a fall.” The doctor is on his feet quickly.

“Send for the midwife immediately,” he says, gathering his things and running out of the room.

“Wait, midwife?” James asks, rising to his feet. Steve follows suit and soon enough they're all sprinting through the palace towards your chambers.

Before the Kings can enter, Nat is pulling the door closed. Right as she does, a scream comes from behind the wood.

“What the Hell are you doing?” James demands.

“I do not believe this is how she would want to meet her husband for the first time. Allow her space.” The King shakes his head.

“My wife is in there, and she is carrying my child. I have every right to be in there with her, especially if she is in danger. I have only just got my wife back and I will not lose her.” Nat sighs but steps aside, allowing the two men into your Chambers.

You’re on the bed, one hand clutching your stomach while the other grips the bedsheets tightly.

“What's happening, Doctor?” Steve demands, moving to your side quickly. He gently takes your hand in his and you squeeze it instantly.

“It does not look good, Your Majesties. I cannot tell whether it was the fall or the stress on her body, but I can no longer hear the heartbeat.”

A sob bubbles out of you at his words and the Kings are moving quickly.

Steve climbs onto the bed behind you, propping you up on his chest and smoothing your hair gently away from your face.

The way he’s instantly able to care for you in a way that James still has trouble with causes the brunet pain, but he pushes that aside and kneels beside your bed, taking Steve’s place in holding your hand.

A heartbreaking cry of agony leaves your lips, the back of your head digging into the blond King’s chest as the Doctor urges you to push.

“Is there anything that can be done for the pain?” Steve asks softly. The doctor shakes his head solemnly. “We can only give it time and hope that she is able to push swiftly.”

Tears rain down your cheeks and James is reminded of the events that occurred to cause your pregnancy.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

~*~

Hours after your pain started does it finally end, with you bloody and sweaty and childless on your bed, your husbands both sitting by your side.

Steve presses gentle kisses to your clammy forehead while one of his arms wraps around your upper torso. You grab at his forearm with your free hand, bottom lip wobbling as the reality hits you.

You look to King James, fear evident in your teary eyes.

“W-will you have me beheaded for losing your heir?”

The first words you’ve spoken in weeks and he’s nearly crippled with guilt by them.

“Beheaded? Of course not. No one could have anticipated this. You need only rest and recover.” That’s the voice of King Steven, and for a moment you find yourself feeling embarrassed at the fact that this is how he’s meeting you for the first time.

“I will never be able to apologize enough for the pain I have caused you,” James whispers, raising his hand to wipe a tear off of your cheek. You subconsciously flinch away and Steve stares at you in shock before turning his gaze to his husband.

The look on his face is enough for the blond to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“I know you do not know me, but I promise you that all I want is for you to be happy and healthy. Heir be damned.” You sniffle and nod, pulling your hand out of James’ grip and holding onto Steve tighter, anchoring yourself to him.

You cry yourself to sleep, body and mind exhausted after the trauma of the day.

The two Kings, however, do not sleep.

“What have you done to her?” Steve asks bluntly. The brunet closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head.

“You need to understand that I... I wasn’t myself. You were gone and she was meant to be for both of us.”

“Answer the question.”

“I... forced her. And I struck her. And by the Gods the words that came from my mouth... I will spend eternity in hell for all that I have done to her... all the pain I have caused.”

If you were not asleep against his chest, Steve would be on his feet beating his husband to a pulp.

Instead, he takes deep breaths to reign in his anger, determined to keep his cool with you so near.

He wraps both arms protectively around your figure, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head then closing his eyes tightly.

“I cannot excuse my actions, but if you will listen, I will attempt to explain them. Although there is nothing I can say that will ever make what I did right. And I regret every moment of what I did.” The blond slowly opens his eyes, giving his husband a glare.

“We will have words. Until then, she is my priority. I cannot bear to look at you knowing what you’ve done. Leave us.”

The brunet doesn’t argue, knowing that he’s getting far better treatment than he deserves considering all that he’s done to you and the pain he’s caused. He rises and leaves silently, avoiding the knowing eyes of Natalia as he heads towards his chambers, spending yet another night alone.

Steve presses kiss after kiss to the top of your head, his heart heavy with what little he knows of what you endured.

How the man he thought he knew could treat you so poorly is beyond him, but he’s determined to make up for it, even if James cannot.

#king!bucky #king!steve rogers x reader #king!bucky x Princess!reader X king!steve #king!Steve X reader #dark!royal au #bucky x reader royal au #bucky x reader royal au #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #Steve/Reader #steve rogers/reader #bucky barnes/reader #James/Reader #bucky/you #bucky/reader #stucky/reader #stucky x reader #stucky x reader au #stucky x reader royal au

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mx-misty-eyed · 3 years

Text

A bunch of SAI livestream observations

I literally just copied and pasted the notes I took so I'm sorry if they make no sense.

Chronological notes:

-livestream starts by showing a birds-eye view of Dema and playing Good Day

-Tyler looks really depressed

-bishops (Sally/Sacarver and Dan/Lisden) introduce TOP as “the popular band, Twenty One Pilots” - trying to portray them as popular and likable to get more people to listen

-Sacarver says the dragon (Trash) is “kinda dark” - implies that Trash is good

-Tyler’s hair is “number 16 cotton candy” - further shows how Dema controls/catalogs everything

-“there’s not twenty one pilots, there’s only two guys!” - maybe it doesn’t mean anything but that phrase is *the* phrase that will piss off almost any clikkie

-bishops ask where Josh is and if he’s hiding, Sacarver says “come here, you little moron” - Josh isn’t with Dema because they don’t know where he is, plus they wouldn’t call him a moron if he was on their side

-Sacarver wants Tyler to play Stressed Out because she’s always stressed (due to working with Lisden) and because “it’s my favorite” - Stressed Out is the song that made TOP popular, she may be stressed due to working with Lisden because she’s the one that seems to want to escape Dema more, while he seems to buy into the message/concept of Dema more

-Tyler tunes out bishops and then starts singing Choker

-Bishops grab Tyler after Choker and force him onto another set, where Stressed Out plays. Bishops stay onstage during Stressed Out - again, Stressed Out made TOP popular, which is what the bishops want

(okay i know the bishops are bad but that last image would make a badass computer wallpaper)

-Stressed Out fades into Migraine

-“thank God it’s Friday/because Fridays will always be better than Sundays” - probably doesn’t mean anything, but the livestream was on a Friday

-Josh counted for Tyler on “depressssssing”, but not verbally like in the studio version

-Migraine background has the psi symbol

-Migraine transitions into Morph, with a video of a crowd from the Trench era (Tyler interacts with the ‘crowd’ with a call and answer)

-Tyler doesn’t say “Josh Dun�� in Morph

-Morph turns into Holding on to You (“entertain my faith” part) with a rain/lightning effect

-right before “lean with it rock with it”, there’s static and it cuts to the bishops who advertise SAI on the second set (blue/pink/yellow rainbow)

-“they just don’t play hits like this on the radio these days” - “this song will never be played on the radio” from Fairly Local

-after, a ‘commercial’ plays

-the first commercial has the black slipcase on the right and the blue slipcase on the left. In the back, from left to right: cassette, three cd’s stacked on top of each other (white on top, pink in the middle, blue on the bottom), blue box (limited edition box set sold on their website), lyric booklet

-“Dema is bringing you this music collection that is vibrant with saturation” - the Twitter banner was slowly desaturated while in the process of announcing the album, ads for SAI said “feel the saturation!”

-Shy Away, Choker, and Mulberry Street are mentioned during the first ad - two out of three singles released before the album dropped and the most propaganda-like song

-After commercial, Tyler plays Mulberry Street - Lisden said it was his favorite (likely b/c it’s propaganda)

-Mulberry Street starts inside but Tyler goes outside to a street (Mulberry St.) with extras that are ‘frozen’ in place

-Mulberry Street was the whole song (or almost the whole song), while most songs played were only a small segment - again, it’s Dema’s propaganda, so they want it to go on longer than older songs

-after Mulberry Street, the intro to Lane Boy plays (“why do I kneel to these concepts? Tempted by control, controlled by temptation. Stay low, they say, stay low”)

-Lane Boy has people with gas masks in the background

-“Don’t trust a perfect person and don’t trust a song that’s flawless” is repeated several times - later, Sacarver calls the album “perfect”

-Lane Boy transitions into Redecorate

-Chlorine plays next, background has barrels like in music video

-“Running for my…” (Tyler himself doesn’t say the word “life”)

-After Chlorine, Shy Away plays with obviously fake snow/mountainous background. Chandeliers are hanging and a fancy dining table is set

-Bishop commercial after Shy Away (“break the cycle in half”) plays, bishops have nosebleeds

-Sacarver says “nothing is missing from this collection”, yet SAI has 11 tracks while past albums have 14

-cd’s in front are swapped (black on left and blue on right), and the three cd’s are in a different order (pink on top, blue in the middle, white on the bottom)

-“But remember, you should-” *static* - bishops are likely being controlled by someone else, as it’s unlikely that the Banditos would have the power to cut them off

-Cuts to Mulberry St. set but darker (dusk/nighttime)

-The Outside plays next with Josh wearing skeleton hoodie - The Outside was mentioned in the commercial

-when water is poured on the street after The Outside, it forms a footprint

-Tyler sits in a boat named “Oh” with a lamp and an artificial night sky

-Plays Heathens with a ukulele (no frog croaks)

-transitions into Trees, which is normally the last song

-during Trees, the stars start to blur together (it looks like a timelapse of the North Star)

-Josh in Bandito clothing with a torch is shown (torch looks slightly different than in music vids), then it cuts to Jumpsuit

-Jumpsuit background is a valley like in the music video but it looks greener and more manufactured

-After, Heavydirtysoul plays with a flaming car on set (kinda like in the mv)

-Tyler looks upwards during “can you save my heavydirtysoul?”, looks like he’s pleading (sorry the last pic is so blurry(face))

-background is a road similar to the one in the music video

-Josh keeps crossing his drumsticks during HDS

-Commercial break with hosts (bloody and Sacarver has overexaggerated makeup, plus they have yellow eyes)

-“Now that you’ve heard some of this collection, you must be just like us”

-”Sometimes I close my eyes to try to escape, I just can’t believe how unbelievably perfect this collection is!” “You know you can’t escape, Sally.” “Yes, I know.”

-”We’ve come for you”, “We got people on the way, no chances” - “We come for you, no chances”, “We got people on the way” (lyrics from No Chances (which they didn’t play))

-Commercial zooms out to show that it’s on a TV with Tyler, Josh, and others watching - we don’t believe what’s on TV

-Saturday plays, during Jenna dialogue, Jenna has a pink streak in her hair and her top is half-blue, half-white

-Jenna has a yellow phone (Trench) while Tyler has a red one (Dema)

-stutter/pause between “might get” and “loud” happened twice, not just once

-after, they dance onto another set and play Level of Concern

-LOC background looked kind of like Josh’s in the music video (glow in the dark stars against a dark background)

-“In a world where this is as good as it gets, and we miss you, we really do”

-Fades into Ride, background is pink scales and what looks like sideways palm trees?

-Car Radio plays, Josh and Tyler are wearing black masks instead of white ones

-pause after “I liked it better when my car had sound”

-right after Car Radio, an alarm sounds and red lights flash, people run around in the background as Tyler walks onto Mulberry St. set

-Never Take It plays, Tyler comes up close to the camera (almost like in LOC music vid)

-Heavydirtysoul car is on fire to the right of the set

-Trash figurine is on the ground, it looks larger than usual

-Tyler walks back to first set and sits between bishops, who are frozen, and sings “I know it’s over/I was born a choker/nobody’s coming for me” from Choker

-fades out and cuts to bird’s-eye view of the set with crew members clapping and cheering, although even that feels subdued and fake

-shows Josh and Tyler with bishops in background, then credits roll

Various observations:

-Josh’s drumsticks are yellow - furthers concept that he’s against Dema

-SAI songs were generally played longer than older songs

-Bishops call it a “collection”, not an “album”

-Guitarists/trumpet player have one of Tyler’s tattoos on shirt

-Tyler has a pink ring and a blue ring on his left ring and index fingers, respectively (Shy Away music vid)

-various easter eggs on Mulberry St. set (sorry for the quality/size of the pictures)

(says “Rosie’s lounge)

-The door numbers on the Mulberry St. set coincide with the dmaorg.info error message numbers (at the bottom of the message)

-Josh’s bandito mask looks different (has a design on it that looks like a lion?) (unless I’m dumb and it was always like that)

-FPE: the Few the Proud the Emotional (Blurryface), Failed Perimeter Escape (Trench), now Food Petrol Etc (SAI)

-Tyler looks less energetic when singing SAI songs (because it’s Dema propaganda)

-after the show, instrumental versions of The Hype, We Don’t Believe What’s on TV, and Doubt were played. WDBWOTV is obvious, The Hype has the lyric “just don’t believe the hype”, and Doubt has the lyric “gnawing on the bishops”

-in the Q&A, they said Josh would backflip off the piano, but he didn’t. They also didn’t do the deathdrop (thing where Tyler just kinda falls backwards)

-Stream was exactly one hour long (started at 8 PM EST, ended at 9 PM EST)

-The livestream ad doesn’t have a crossed O in the only of “one night only”

Josh’s drum set designs:

Trash:

Alien:

Psi symbol 1:

Psi symbol 2:

FULL SONG LIST:

[song number]. [song title] - [album] ([design on Josh’s drum]): [additional notes]

Asterisks indicate songs that transition into each other smoothly

Good Day - SAI (Josh not present): not sang by Tyler (live, that is)

*Choker - SAI (Trash)

Stressed Out - Blurryface (alien)

Migraine - Vessel (alien)

Morph - Trench (alien)

Holding on to You - RATB/Vessel (alien)*

[Dema commercial 1]

Mulberry Street - SAI (Trash)

*Lane Boy - Blurryface (alien)

Redecorate - SAI (alien)

Chlorine - Trench (alien)*

Shy Away - SAI (Psi Symbol 1)

[Dema commercial 2]

The Outside - SAI (Trash)

*Heathens - Suicide Squad soundtrack (Josh not present)

Trees - RATB/Vessel (Josh not present): usually played at end of concert)

[Josh as a Bandito]

*Jumpsuit - Trench (alien)

Heavydirtysoul - Blurryface (alien)*

[Dema commercial 3]

Saturday - SAI (Psi Symbol 2)

*Level of Concern - single (alien)

Ride - Blurryface (alien)

Car Radio - RATB/Vessel (alien)*

[alarm sounds]

Never Take It - SAI (Trash)

Anyways, thats all I have for now but if I missed anything, let me know and I’ll add it! (I’ll be sure to credit you ofc)

-Admin Crow

#sai #scaled and icy #sai theory #scaled and icy theory #twenty one pilots #twenty øne piløts #top theory #what the hell is going on

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pettydollie · 5 months

Text

writing something for the college!bakugou series 😋

#also i made a banner wtf #i ain’t paying for it to be a PNG #so it’s kinda blurry sorry #anyway #its gonna be cute :3

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

Text

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DAY SIXTEEN

The realisation of the decision you have to make hits you like a truck the moment you wake up.

You hadn’t lied to Yoongi last night. Chatting with him about it was helpful, and you’re insanely grateful for his attentiveness and the fact that you can be honest with him about things like that. But it doesn’t mean you’re any closer to knowing who you want to be eliminated.

You’ve barely been awake and coherent for a minute before your phone buzzes noisily on your nightstand. Blinking blearily at the screen, a message from Taehyung lights it up. Bunkroom, please.

He’d sent it two minutes ago, your phone giving you that 2min reminder. It must have been what woke you. Your sleepy fingers manage to type out a quick coming now before you force yourself out from the cosiness of the covers and heading down.

Jimin is already there when you arrive, arms crossed to preserve the warmth of his body and perched on the foot of Taehyung’s bed. The masseuse had picked the two-set of bunks, directly across from the door, and he sits wrapped up in blankets, cross-legged and leaning against the far wall. He pats the mattress with a covered hand and you sit between the two, Jimin naturally scooting up to sandwich you between the two.

“Is this an intervention?” you joke weakly, voice still croaky from sleep.

“Not really.” You feel the pressure of Taehyung’s head on your shoulder. “Do you know who you’re voting out yet?”

You let out a self-deprecating scoff. “I do not.”

Taehyung goes silent for a moment. “Well… I have an idea.”

Jimin turns to face him, clearly just as in the dark as you are. “About who to vote out?”

“Kinda,” Taehyung murmurs. The only light in the room is what sneaks in through the crack of the doorway. You let your eyes slip shut as Taehyung winds his fingers into yours. “I want you to vote out me.”

Both you and Jimin go stiff, protesting at the same time. “Tae…”

“No,” the older man to your left says harshly. “Why would you want that?”

Taehyung seems to similarly shrink away and lean in closer, making himself small. “It would be easier on Y/n,” he states in an equally small voice.

Your eyes snap open even though you can only see grey-scale versions of the boys. “Tae, that’s not how this is meant to be. I’m a big girl; I’ll live.”

“You don’t get it,” Taehyung insists, sitting up and untangling himself from you so he can face you full-on. “I know the decision is hard on you. But it’s really hard on us too, and I realised last night that it’s not because I’m worried about getting voted out, it’s because I hate seeing you so upset. We’ve already made a promise to each other. I’ve seen more of you and shared more with you than most of the other guys, and I just think… You know, fuck the competition. You and Jimin both mean more to me than the game, and so I think I’d be happy to take that hit to make things easier on all of us.” His gaze drops, fingers picking at the thread of the blanket. “And, you know, maybe we’d be able to keep us a secret longer if the others saw you vote me out.”

While you sit stunned into silence, Jimin burst into action, gripping your thigh gently but emphatically. “It should be me, then. You’ve been nothing less than a sweetheart this entire time, Tae, you don’t deserve last place. Let Y/n vote me.”

Taehyung chuckles, no sadness or resentment in his voice. “Nobody would believe that Y/n would vote you out, Minnie,” he quips, his teeth gleaming in the dim room. “You’re too good at what you do.”

“I’ve been an asshole. I got in a fight the other day. I don’t think it’s hard to believe at all.” Taehyung makes a noise of protest in his throat, so Jimin cuts back in before he can voice it. “At least let’s flip a coin for it. Leave it up to chance.”

Your body goes lax against the wall with a silent sob of miserable irony. Just yesterday Taehyung had jauntily suggested you could choose who to vote off with a coin toss, and now he was rifling through his bag for one, to see if he or Jimin would be the one to leave. “I haven’t even said yes,” you point out lowly, “I haven’t said I want this. That I’m happy for one of you to leave.”

Jimin lets out a quiet sigh, his face cast in the warm hallway light as Taehyung opens the door wider to see more. “But would you be happier if you made one of them seventh place? Had them think they’re the worst in the house?”

“At least this way we won’t be offended or mad at you,” Taehyung assures as he returns, running his thumb over the engravings on a 50 won coin. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

They’re waiting for you. You bite down on your tongue and force yourself to think. To picture the faces of the others, of how they might react. Hoseok if he was on the chopping block for the second time in a row. Namjoon if he felt like his inexperience was his downfall. Jungkook thinking the fight yesterday was the nail in his coffin, or Jin seeing your elimination as a rejection of him and his feelings. Yoongi after letting you confide in him only to send him figuratively packing.

You’d have to eliminate them eventually. All but one of the guys on this show would face that goodbye at some point. Was it selfish of you to push it off for one more week?

“You can flip it,” you decide after a moment, your stomach sinking immediately. “Fuck, this sucks. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin’s grip on your thigh squeezes once comfortingly, and Taehyung rubs your shoulder, before he turns to his elder. “Min, heads or tails?”

“Heads,” Jimin picks without hesitation.

Taehyung, however, does hesitate. “Doesn’t heads come up more often?” he questions warily.

Jimin grits his teeth and nods. “It should be me.”

The masseuse frowns, his black curls like a dark halo as he steadies the coin on his thumb. “Whoever’s comes up gets eliminated?”

Jimin nods again. “Flip it, Tae.”

The second he flicks his thumb and the coin rises, you squeeze your eyes shut, not even breathing. Hoping that the moment where both of them are going to stay in could last a little longer.

The two boys go silent. You feel their eyes on you, then their hands, both slipping into yours just seconds apart from each other. Feeling your eyes prickle, you clear your throat. “Who is it?”

Without a word, your right side becomes heavy as Taehyung buries his face into your shoulder, free arm wrapping tightly around your waist.

You begin to cry before you can even think to stop it, leaning back into him as much as you can with both your hands occupied. Opening your eyes, they remain too blurry to really see out of, but you feel the two of them shift, fingers wiping under your cheeks and cupping your jaw.

“Hey, shh, don’t cry, petal,” Taehyung voice croons, smooth like velvet. “It’s okay, we’re okay.”

You sniff shudderingly, detaching your hands from theirs so you can press over your eyes, composing yourself. “Sorry,” you mumble in a thick voice, “I’ll just miss you.”

You blink away the last of your tears so that his face comes into focus, lips curving slightly, eyes swimming with emotion and with tears of his own. “Hey,” he soothes again, “I’m not going anywhere. All this means is that I can’t have sex with you. It’s not like sex is the only valuable thing about you, the only thing I like about you, you know? I can still hold your hand, I can still be beside you, I can still make you smile. I wanna see that pretty smile again, petal.”

Even though you probably look like a mess, and your heart is fizzy with mangled emotion, you can’t fight the smile that stretches across your lips. Taehyung brightens at the sight, praising you softly as you reach out and shove him playfully. “You sap,” you whine petulantly, heart settling nonetheless.

Having let the two of you share that moment together, Jimin finally pitches in, his voice bright and soothing like yuja tea. “Worst case scenario,” he jibes lightly, “you’ll just have to fuck pup with his hands tied and take the punishment.”

Your laugh is watery but it’s genuine. “Ah, Tae, are you gonna put me in some crazy lingerie or something?”

“I don’t have to when you look gorgeous in everything you wear already,” he admits with a fond smile, before it stretches wider, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Lingerie sounds nice though. Good thinking.”

Jimin clears his throat lightly and stands up off the bed, slipping his phone out of his pocket to consult the time. “It’s just gone eight, so you have about an hour. I’ll give you two some privacy, yeah?”

Jimin shuts the door behind him, inadvertently pitching the room back into darkness. Taehyung lets out a breathy giggle, getting up to stumble around for the curtains.

You wince and shield your eyes when the white walls gleam with the brightness of the morning sun.

Taehyung looks more gorgeous in the well-lit room than he did in a dim one, so you will your eyes to quickly adjust, drinking him in. Deep chocolate curls resting on his brow, he shakes them back as he gestures up with a single hand. “We should probably go on the top bunk.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I don’t wanna get my hair caught on the metal springs on the bottom there,” he explains, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around the network of wire that holds up the mattress of the top bunk just above your head. “I swear I’ve done that so many times in just this one night. It hurts.”

Slipping out dutifully, you climb the few rungs of the ladder to sit atop the bunk, reminded of the last time you stayed here with Namjoon and Hoseok. The mood is so different now, only emphasised by the way Taehyung gently tips you back against the pillow the second he joins you.

“Tae, what are you- Tae,” you gasp, feeling the slight tickle of his hair on your neck as he leans in and pulls the neckline of your sleep shirt over your shoulder, baring the flesh. His lips leave light butterfly kisses over the sensitive skin, making you sigh out at the feeling. “What are you doing, Tae?”

He sits up, braced by his forearms on either side of your head. Like this, his hair casts a shadow over his face, but you can see the insistent fire in his eyes. “I want to touch you, petal,” he confesses, “one last time.”

Your heart is seized with emotion, a lump thickening in your throat. “It won’t be the last last time, Tae.”

“True,” he acquiesces, “but for the rest of our time here I’ll have to see the others with you, our Minnie will be able to still be with you, but you and I won’t be able to do any more than hold hands. Won’t you let me treat you like your deserve before then?”

You nod quickly, breath hitching. “Touch me, Tae.”

This time he doesn’t waste time shifting the fabric to the side. Instead, his large palms slip under the small of your back, guiding you to arch it so he can slip your shirt off entirely, tossing it down all the way to the floor.

You sit up and peer over the edge with a wince, glancing back up at Taehyung. “Please don’t fall over,” you plead in a small voice.

The masseuse grins fondly, taking a peek before moving the other way, towards the wall. “It’s not that high,” he protests softly, even as he props himself up on one elbow, his leg thrown low over your thighs, keeping you locked in close too. His hand lowers to run lightly down your side, making you shiver. “Better?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Better.”

With a slightly bemused hum, Taehyung dips his head and his lips find your skin again, making use of the lack of shirt to trail kisses lower, unhurried even with the very real threat of the deadline hanging over you.

You let out an airy sigh at the intimate way he moves down your shoulder, over your collarbones, to the swell of your chest. Instead of a straight line, every kiss is plotted out in mindless curls and loops, like he wants to cover as much ground as possible.

As his hair tickles your skin, it sends tingles running down your nerves, your nipples peaking as they anticipate his attention. “Tae…” you breathe, giggling when his chaste touches make you shiver.

His voice vibrates slightly against your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he praises, his free arm slipping over to gently grasp your arm, thumb running over the crook of your inner elbow. “So gorgeous, petal.”

His palms are like hot coals against your skin as it breaks out in goosebumps, hair standing on end. It feels like a quiet eternity before his mouth reaches one of your nipples, closing around it with the sudden wet heat of his tongue. You cry out at the unexpected stimulation and jerk, but the weight of his head, leg and arm carefully pinning you against the sheets keep you steady.

Taehyung takes his time worshipping your breasts, sucking your nipple with a wet pop as his hand shifts once more to play with the other. Pausing to lick the pads of his thumb and forefinger, he returns to roll the bud between them, making heat pool in your core.

Part of you feels like pushing his head between your legs, or wrapping your legs around his waist and demanding he fills you, but you don’t want this moment to be over any sooner than it has to be. Instead, your fingers wind into his hair, cradling his head to you as you arch your chest up into that delicious stimulation.

Even as you feel his cock plump up between the layers of clothing that separate you, he doesn’t so much as grind his hips, focussing fully on your pleasure. After what could be mere moments or entire minutes, he swaps over, leaning to the opposite breast to lave his tongue over it, baring the slightest nip of teeth to make you gasp.

It feels like a lazy eternity before his hand moves again, this time running a flat palm between your breasts, down your stomach and slipping under the worn elastic waistband. Wanting to give yourself a little room to breathe under the baggy pants you’d worn to bed, you’d foregone panties, and Taehyung hisses in sharply when his fingers run over your mound and immediately dip into your folds.

Recovering quickly, he begins to massage your hooded clit, using your own wetness to lubricate it for a smoother slide. You let out a throaty moan, legs parting to make more room for his sizeable hand. “Tae,” you pant out again, whimpering when he begins pressing kisses to your stomach.

“Yes, petal?” Taehyung questions sweetly, his movement on your clit so slow that you find yourself rocking your hips against him just for more stimulation.

“Want you to kiss me.”

“I am kissing you,” he counters, lips dragging over your hipbone as he speaks.

You whine. “On the lips, Tae.”

His fingers delve lower, parting your folds. “Which ones?”

Though the thought makes you clench around nothing, you push weakly at his shoulder in protest. “Up here, Tae, wanna kiss you properly.”

He gives in, shifting up to join his swollen lips to yours for the first time since you’d gotten up here. Just as you hook your hand on the nape of his neck and kiss him, he breaches your walls with two slick fingers, making you cry out into his mouth.

Taehyung chuckles, massaging you from the inside, fingers scissoring and curling rather than thrusting. “That feel good, petal?”

You nod shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you put your mind into kissing him properly, tongue running down the seam of his lips so that he parts them for you. He continues to work you open with languid grace, his fingers so long and deft that even the most minimal movements take your breath away.

He may be focused on your pleasure, but he doesn’t seem to be pushing you to orgasm, instead letting you bask in the warmth of your arousal and his steady stimulation. Even as he slips a third finger inside you and uses the base of his palm to rub against your clit, you’re reminded of a massage. The way he draws out the moment so that you can enjoy the experience of it, not just the final result. Your muscles go lax and one of your legs hitch up to spread yourself wider for him, but still his ministrations are so slow that you can’t even hear how obscenely wet you must be.

Still fully clothed, you can feel Taehyung’s hardness against your hip, his leg splayed over one of your thighs to keep you still for him. As your pleasure steadily rises, but that familiar curl in your stomach never tightens, you begin to grow needy. First attempting to rut against his fingers, then nipping at his lip in the hopes of riling him up, you eventually resort to pulling away from him and giving him your best puppy eyes. “Please, Tae, I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes are still blissfully shut from the kiss, and his brows furrow just slightly, hand stilling inside you. “I wanna make this last.”

You bite your lip, pressing a hand to his cheek fondly. “I don’t want to run out of time. We’ll end up being late to the meeting.”

Taehyung sighs, tilting his head to press a kiss to your palm. “Who cares if we’re late?”

Your lip twitches. “Sejin, probably. Do you want him coming up here at one minute past nine, interrupting us?”

The masseuse winces, his fingers slipping out of your wet heat. “You think he’d do that?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna risk it either,” you offer up.

“Fuck.” Taehyung sits up and quickly tugs down your waistband, making you squeal and giggle at his sudden change of pace. “You’re right, shit.”

He strips himself even quicker than he did you, jimmying out of his boxer shorts and tugging his shirt over his head like it’s scalding him. Immediately you feel his erection against your thigh, heavy and wet with precum. Instead of getting back up on top of you, you feel Taehyung’s hand - still sticky from your arousal - pulling your hip up to guide you to lie on your side.

With legs intertwined, he hitches your outer leg over his waist and lines himself up at your entrance. Almost shaking with excitement, you cling to him and hold your breath as he pushes forward, his head entering you slowly but surely.

It’s quiet in the bunkroom, the only sound being your shared breathing, but there’s something so vulnerable and tender in that silence, and you tremble as he bottoms out inside you. The angle you’re both at, lying side by side, makes it feel like he’s deeper than you’ve ever felt before, filling you completely. You picture his cock so far inside you that it presses against your stomach, and the thought makes you tremble.

“Okay?” Taehyung checks in, giving you a moment to adjust.

You nod and lean forward to capture his lips, savouring that familiar embrace. “Ready, Tae,” you confirm, clenching around his girth. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Taehyung lets out an unbidden groan, and just like that his patience is dissolved, rutting up into you with short, staccato thrusts that punch the air right out of you. Your fingers curl, clutching onto him for dear life as your nerves are set alight.

Every rock of his hips grinds his cock into the base of your clit, and you find yourself grinding against him, helplessly seeking out the best angle. “T-Tae, fuck, so good,” you manage to force out, voice wobbling even more than your legs.

His hands are all over you; running over your thighs, stroking your back, gripping your ass to meet every thrust. As you look over to him blearily, that same desperate hunger is evident in his face. You take a few moments to appreciate him. This will be the last time in a while that he’s writhing in carnal bliss because of you, and you fight to memorise every last inch of his face.

His hair is messy from sleep and the roughness of your current predicament, some curling at his temples even as the rest sticks up at odd angles, but on him it looks like some kind of wild halo that just makes him all the more gorgeous. His eyes are clenched shut even as his mouth goes slack. The tiniest gloss of drool gathers in the corner of his lips, which are a swollen pink, contrasting so beautifully with his olive skin. Light moans and exertions fall past those lips like a steady river, rushing louder every time you clench around him.

Unable to hold yourself back any more, you lurch forward, teeth pinching your lip with how eagerly you rejoin yourself to his. His responding whimper is muffled, but the way his thrusts stutter as his hands fly up to cup your face close to him speaks volumes.

The movement of his cock deep inside you isn’t measured, or ruthless, or graceful. It’s seeking pleasure and giving pleasure mindlessly, wishing to be as close as you possibly can for as long as you can, barely even speaking to each other.

His lips are equally uncoordinated as they slant against you, his tongue dipping out thoughtlessly, teeth nipping needily. You lose your mind to this primal moment between the two of you, sense of time fading away as minute details like a drop of sweat rolling down your back take centre stage. All you can focus on are his fingernails lightly pressing into your cheek; the roughness of his leg hair against your calf; the squeaking of the springs beneath you.

You can’t even tell if you’re making any noise yourself, so lost in those divine notes that slip off his tongue. At one point your mouths slide apart and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, focuses on thrusting harder. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, trying to meet those thrusts but every moment your pleasure mounts it just gets harder to make your body obey.

When Taehyung speaks, it’s impossible to tell how much time has passed, if Sejin is waiting outside or if you still have most of the hour. Once he buried himself inside you, you slowly stopped caring about the outside world. Those doors felt like an impenetrable wall that would keep you and him secure for as long as you needed it. His voice comes to you muffled, a tickle on your collarbone. “Wanna feel you cum, petal,” he confesses, voice hoarse. “Are you close?”

You gasp, writhing against him. “Need more, Tae.” You barely manage to finish your sentence before fingers are grinding against your clit, pressing it between the pad of his thumb and his cock. Immediately, heat rushes through you, making your eyes roll back. “Fu-fuck, right there,” you cry, core pulsing with every thrust.

With an added source of pleasure, your orgasm begins to quickly approach, your entire body alight with it. At some point your eyes have fallen shut, and you’ve failed to meet his thrusts, almost entirely unable to think, your mind just overwhelmed with the feeling of his cock moving so deeply inside you.

Taehyung, although similarly delirious with pleasure, seems slightly more put together than you. His hips begin to snap faster, fucking into you without abandon even as the angle prevents him from getting too much momentum. His thumb speeds up, rolling your most sensitive bud over his shaft as it drives into you, and his free hand is trapped between you and the sheets, fingers tangled in your hair.

“Close, so close, gon’cum soon, Tae,” you warn him in a garbled stream when the stimulation begins to surmount what your body can handle. Toes curling, you pant and wait before your orgasm to hit any second, whining every time his length pulls out.

When Taehyung speaks, it’s breathy like a prayer. “Kiss me.”

You have just enough time to seek out his lips before the dam breaks and you’re cumming around him. Still seeking his own end, Taehyung ruts into you and makes out with you messily, groaning into your mouth when you tighten, nerves singing with raw pleasure, an orgasm that never seems to end.

You continue to kiss him as he finally begins to spill inside you, going tense and grinding his hips rather than thrusting. It feels so right, being joined like this with limbs entangled and every breath shared.

It takes you a few moments of coming down from your high to notice the wetness on your cheeks. At first you think you’re crying, overwhelmed from a powerful orgasm, but as you crack your eyes open you see Taehyung pull back, shoulders jerking and a hand clapped over his mouth and nose.

He cries silently, tears soaking the pillow and dripping off his nose, but there’s nothing you can say. It’s just a game, you still have me, we only have to wait a little while, these things wouldn’t bring him any comfort, not when he already knew them. His wasn’t a sadness you had to explain away or solve, it was one he just needed to feel in its entirety.

So, just as quietly as sobs wrack his body, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and hold him close.

He calms down eventually, pressing his cheek against the crown of your head, but the two of you stay like that for every last minute that you have left.

When your phone vibrates, followed quickly by his, you know that your time is up, and you dress in silence.

The meeting starts at 9:12 a.m. You know this, because by the time Taehyung descends the stairs - joining you several minutes later to prevent suspicion - Sejin is wearing a hole in the carpet, informing the group there is a schedule for a reason.

“Can we get started now?” Sejin asks in a snappish tone, before taking in a measured breath, calming himself. “Sorry. Long day.”

“But it’s only nine… thirteen a.m.,” Taehyung supplies helpfully. Sejin doesn’t seem to find it very helpful. “Sorry. Yes, we can start.”

As the masseuse settles himself on a couch beside Jimin, you do your best not to look their way. Sat beside Sejin on the edge of the coffee table, you’re facing the whole group, but there is a strange sense of calm that comes over you when you look at the others. Knowing they’re safe for at least another week.

“Once again,” Sejin announces, knee bumping yours, “the gentlemen have a chance to defend themselves before Y/n makes her decision. Clockwise around the room; Namjoon, we’ll start with you.”

It’s been a pretty rainy morning, a cold front frosting up the windows and making the heatpump slow to act. The academic has himself bundled up in a thick brown sweater and chunky pants, hands slipped between his own thighs for an extra bit of warmth. Somehow, the stocky clothes just make him look smaller. “Y/n,” he begins, “I know I’m never going to be as experienced as the others beside me, but I do really want to keep learning with you, and exploring different things. You make me feel really comfortable and at ease, which is unusual since usually I panic even thinking about kissing someone, and so I’d be really sad if I lost that learning curve that I’m going up with you. I hope you enjoy our time together enough that you’ll let me stay a little longer.”

As he is most days, Hoseok sits beside Namjoon, half-leaning on the taller man. He’s wearing sleek black today; skinny jeans, fitted turtleneck and a cinched waist. Reminiscent of the first two scenes you’d done together, you wonder if he’s wearing those clothes strategically. “My turn? Y/n, if you’re thinking of voting Namjoon out, vote me instead, and if you’re thinking of voting out any of the other guys, good luck to them.” His cheeks lift in a warm smile as you laugh, the humour skimming off some of the tension that weighs the room down. “But on a serious note, I think you and I are extremely sexually compatible, and I take great pleasure in watching you fall apart for me. I want for you to see me as somebody that you can trust to take care of you, but also push you and challenge you. For that, I do hope you choose not to eliminate me.”

You suck in a slow breath. It’s strange hearing them out with no intention of voting them out anyway. Rather than making you feel more indecisive, it reaffirms all the good that you have in this house, that you’re lucky to still retain after the meeting today. You owed Taehyung a massive thank you.

Wedged on the other side of Hoseok is the youngest gentleman. Jungkook has his legs tucked under him, fluffy grey bedsocks peeking out. When Sejin looks at hiim expectantly, he clears his throat. “I actually, um, have a presentation.”

As the rest of the room watches in bewilderment, he hops off the couch and flicks on the television. On the screen, two mirrored selfies of him pouting and winking bracket a message, VOTE FOR JUNGKOOK.

He sucks in a breath suddenly, whirling around to face you. “That should say don’t,” he explains in a rush, “don’t vote for Jungkook.”

Turning back, he crouches beside the cabinet to where a laptop is hooked up to the back of the TV. Changing slides, he straightens up again. A crossfade gives way to a slide which begins with the title, Who Is Jungkook?

“Fucking hell,” Yoongi grumbles, shifting to get himself comfortable on the middle couch he shares with Jin. “Wake me up when it’s my turn.”

Clearing his throat, Jungkook begins to read off the screen. “Who is Jungkook? Successful camboy, avid gamer, budding chef - that’s a picture of me helping hyung cook - and most importantly… Objectively the most attractive guy in the house.”

Even as he hurries to change slides, the other men - namely Jin and Taehyung - protest with cries of outrage and disbelief. Jungkook ignores them, just raising his voice enough to carry over their complaints, waiting for the new slide to bounce in above the previous one. “Why should you save Jungkook?” This time, Jungkook stays crouched, each bullet point having its own slide with a related picture of him. “I will stream with you. I will help cook for you. I will let you play as Widowmaker. I will work out every day so that I stay capable of lifting you easily. I will show you the unflattering pictures I take of the hyungs.” Somehow, Jungkook’s managed to capture a shot of Hoseok mid-yawn, nose scrunched and jaw wide open at the dining table. The man himself lets out an indignant huff, only relaxing once Jungkook switches slides again, a dissolve transition leaving you with a final selfie with Jungkook biting his lip and flicking the camera a peace sign. Jungkook straightens up. “I will give you all these things and more if I’m still in the competition, so please, don’t vote Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s hesitant smattering of applause fills the room as Jungkook switches off the television, sitting himself back down beside Hoseok. Even as he smiles and acts casual about it, you can see his nerves in the way he wrings his hands in his lap. Even if you hadn’t already decided to vote out Tae, there was no way you could’ve voted Jungkook out this week.

Jin is next up, on the couch directly in front of you. His ment is simple. “Vote me out if you think I deserve it. If you genuinely think I’m the worst in the house. I don’t think you do.” The rest of the room falls silent, waiting for him to continue, but he sits back and shuffles Yoongi’s shoulder to indicate his turn.

Sitting up, honey blonde hair disheveled from the back of the couch, Yoongi clears his throat and looks over at you. “You and I spoke last night about the others, about reasons for them to stay in, reasons for them to be voted out. But you didn’t cover me, so here’s mine. Pros: I know my way around the female body in general and, I believe, your body specifically. I’m very willing to give most things a go, I learn fast, and you know that I can keep my head above the water in moments of crisis. I’m a safe person to have in the game.”

You grin. “And your cons?”

Yoongi harrumphs, pouting petulantly. “Well, I’m not going to say them now, am I? I’m trying to promote myself.”

Your bemusement is quick to evaporate when you realise it’s Jimin and Taehyung that are last to defend themselves. Running clockwise, Taehyung is the one who has to speak up now. His eyes dance around the room rather than settling, fingers fiddling with the zipper on his jacket pocket. “Y/n,” he announces, voice so soft and tentative, “I think you and I have a lot of, um, potential together in the bedroom, and, you know, if you keep me in the game, you’ll be able to enjoy the best hands in the business. And I really enjoyed my time with you so much, especially this week. It’s like we have an understanding when we...” Taehyung’s mouth opens, closes. “Uh, so… Don’t vote me out, because you’ll miss out on those things.”

You try not to let the blue cloud in your chest show on your face, staying neutral. You and him both knew you would miss out on those things. That you would miss those things too. Giving a little nod, hyperaware of your reactions, you turn to Jimin.

He’s looking you dead-on, barely moving. “You should vote me out,” he says plainly. “Not...any of the others.” Not Taehyung. “I was a dick the other day, I’ve been an asshole mostly this whole time, and I’m sure the other guys would love it if you did, because they all know I’m the biggest competition. If you ever miss me, I have countless videos online you could watch, or you could watch me fuck one of the guys here. And I’m sure you already have a name in mind, but change it to mine. It should be me.”

Your mouth goes dry, heart racing sickly in your chest. Taehyung’s staring at Jimin with puppy eyes, a silent protest. On the other side of the room, Jungkook lets out a surprised chuckle. “Reverse psychology!” he chirps. “Nice, hyung.”

“So, Y/n,” Sejin asks, voice warm with sympathy, “who’ll it be?”

With eyes stinging, you duck your head, the name on your tongue bitter like battery acid. What you wouldn’t give to throw yourself away instead. “Taehyung.”

The room goes dead quiet. No sighs of relief, expressions of condolence. No announcement from Sejin.

In the two weeks you’d been here, you’d been in this position once before. But that time, exactly one week ago, you’d been subject to a sudden change in events that saved everyone. Now, with Taehyung’s name still hanging in the air like a melancholy ghost, the weight of this decision and its finality sit heavy around the room.

The first cut is the deepest, and as Sejin begins to instruct Taehyung on how to proceed as an eliminated member, you feel like your heart has been sliced in two. The half of you that wants to rush up to him and kiss him silly and take back what you said, and the half that’s filled with an overwhelming relief that you’ve kept the others safe for now.

Taehyung doesn’t look at you much as he leaves. There’s a moment, a single glance, where he gives you a teary smile of approval and comfort. A million words that you can’t say in front of everyone. But then he turns, and he walks out the front door.

Jungkook, who was too shocked into silence to even be listening, straightens up with the wooden thunk of the door closing. “He’s not leaving for good, is he?”

Sejin shakes his head stiffly, before clearing his throat and slipping back into his producer mode. Even as he does so, you can see the elimination upsets him too, his eyes sad. “Taehyung is going around back to the confessional booth for his exit interview. He doesn’t need to be around for prompt distribution, so he’s going to just do it now. Which brings me to this week’s theme.” Sejin pauses for dramatic effect, but it only serves to highlight the sullen mood in the room. “Work hard, play hard.”

You frown in confusion. The first two weeks were easy. Locations, roleplay. You knew what type of thing would be occurring even if you didn’t have the specifics for each member. But this time, you felt totally lost.

Sejin continues. “This week, prompt distribution is also different. Usually, we have you randomly pick a prompt from the bunch. But this time, we have a Bangasm Bomb coming into play. Week 3’s Bangasm Bomb is that whoever won fan favourite in Week 2 will distribute the prompts for Week 3. Yoongi, that’s you.”

Though all of you are a bit reserved, you can’t help but perk up, the interest around the room growing. Yoongi, sat beside Jin but taking up most of the couch, sits up suddenly. “So I give them out randomly, or…?”

“You read all of the prompts and assign them however you choose. Without revealing the prompt to the rest of the group, I ask that you give a reason for each choice.”

Yoongi grins, jumping up in an usual show of liveliness to get the slips of folded paper off Sejin. “I guess I picked the right week to absolutely kill it in the audience vote.” He makes you wait an eternity as he painstakingly opens them all and considers them, eyes dark as they search the room, making little noises of consideration and indecision. Finally, he stands up straight and immediately pockets one.

“A reason, Yoongi,” Sejin reminds.

The doctor blinks. “Because I want it?” Moving to the next one in his pile, he approaches Hoseok first. “Okay, this one is because I think it’s best done by a professional.”

Hoseok takes the slip and holds it close to his chest as he reads, brows lifting. “That’s probably a good idea,” he affirms. “Thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi, clearly gleeful with his position of temporary power, glances at the next slip. “Ooh! Okay, this one is for Jin-hyung because it fits perfectly.”

Jin accepts the slip warily, letting out an exasperated laugh when he reads it. “You little shit.”

Yoongi’s grin is wide enough that you can see his gums. “I love this,” he informs Sejin, “whoever came up with this needs a raise. Anyways; next one.” Opening a fourth piece of paper, he immediately seeks out Namjoon. “I’m giving this to you because I think you’ll get a kick out of it, and I heard through the pipeline that you like to be called daddy.”

Namjoon goes red faster than a changing traffic light, spluttering violently on a lungful of air when he reads the prompt.

Before he has the chance to put it away, Hoseok puts a strong hand on his shoulder and holds him in place so he can quickly sneak a peek of it, collapsing into a peal of laughter when he sees it. “You’re probably right,” he quips to Yoongi, who preens in satisfaction.

“Okay, moving on,” Yoongi continues, “Jungkook, this one’s for you. I figure you’re such a switch that you could play this either way, and I’m curious.”

You furrow your brows, as does Jungkook, but the moment the youngest man reads his prompt, the lines in his face smooth out in realisation. “Thanks, hyung,” he offers up sweetly. “I like this one.”

“I’m sure you do, kid,” the doctor says with a pat of his shoulder, before handing Jimin the final prompt. “And I’m giving you this one because it’s the last one left.”

Jimin scoffs at the weak reasoning, but his eyes dart up to you immediately once he looks at what it says. With a lip curling in bemusement and interest, Jimin thanks Yoongi. “This suits me just fine.”

Done assigning prompts, Yoongi turns to Sejin. “If this show gets greenlit for a second season and you don’t offer me a job, I’ll be personally offended.”

Sejin rolls his eyes with a begrudging smile. “Good job, Yoongi. And meeting adjourned, ev- Wait, no! There’s more; almost forgot.”

You lift your brows, waiting for some other groundbreaking twist or dramatic flair that seemed to keep cropping up during these meetings.

The producer stands himself up, patting his back pocket where his phone rests. “I just had a meeting with the showrunners, and they’re not happy with the punishment for breaking elimination rules. I’ll go tell Taehyung this after, since it mostly concerns him and Y/n, but as an FYI, the protocol around eliminated members has changed a bit.” He takes a breath, hands up and ready to gesture his explanation. “Basically, our old system was that if an eliminated member touched Y/n sexually, he’d be out of the house for good, and if Y/n touched the eliminated member sexually, she had to wear an outfit of that person’s choice. Uh, it seems that second system isn’t really that drastic, and could easily be manipulated, so we’re changing it up upon the showrunners’ request. Now, if the eliminated member touches Y/n sexually, he’ll have to leave as usual, but if Y/n touches him sexually, her punishment has changed to being taken out of the house for 24 hours.”

You tip your head to the side. “That doesn’t sound like a punishment.”

Sejin gives a strained smile. “You’ll be taken out of the house for 24 hours, handcuffed to me.”

“Huh?” Jin asks incredulously. “Bit wish fulfilment isn’t it, big guy?”

The producer has the good grace to blush. “It’s not like that, and it wasn’t my decision. Apparently, the viewers these days are taking more interest in the workings of staff. Additionally, as with the clothing rule, handcuffing Y/n to another member of the house is once again too easy to work around. Anyways, that’s the new rule. Got it?”

You blink. “So… let’s say I run outside right now and touch Tae’s dick. I’d then have to be handcuffed to you for a whole day and like, do producer shit? Meetings and editing and stuff?”

“That is correct.”

“What happens when one of us needs to pee?”

Sejin lets out a weak laugh. “You’d be allowed out of the cuffs to use the bathroom.”

“What happens when it’s nighttime?” you question, heart sinking as you realise your loophole to Tae is quickly closing up.

“Well, I usually go home around 11 each night, and my girlfriend is happy to take the couch should that happen.”

“What- What if-” Your mind whirls as the other guys chuckle at your predicament. “What if I wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink but you’re still sleeping? What if the guys in your meetings ask why you have a young girl handcuffed to you and I have to explain it’s technically a sex thing? What if-”

“All the things that make this a punishment, Y/n. I suggest you practice restraint and avoid breaking the rule.”

Your glare is softened by a petulant pout. “You’re a sadist.”

“This wasn’t my idea, Y/n. It’ll be a punishment for me too.” Sejin clears his throat. “Anyways; meeting adjourned. I’m off to catch Taehyung up.”

The stunned silence lasts no more than ten seconds once Sejin leaves. Jungkook, a toothy grin and cheeky eyes, starts bouncing in his seat. “Y/n and Sejin sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-”

“Shut up,” you shout with a whine. “This sucks.”

“Such a relief you have six other dicks still to choose from,” Yoongi drawls. “I’m sure you’ll live without one.”

Without thinking, you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh at your antics, before pushing on Jin’s thigh to stand up. “Well,” the doctor announces, “I, for one, could do with a celebratory brunch.”

Jimin frowns. “What are we celebrating?”

Yoongi beams. “Me making you all my little bitch,” he declares, letting out a startled hoot when Jin jumps up to tackle him, manhandling him towards the kitchen.

As the two chefs of the house begin to lug out ingredients from the pantry, Jungkook turns to the rest of the group with a worried frown. “D’you think Tae is gonna be really sad?” he asks in a small voice.

Finally getting up off the hard surface of the coffee table, you make your way over to him, perching yourself on the arm of the couch. “Maybe,” you admit honestly, “but I think if he needs space, he’ll go upstairs, and if he wants comfort, he’ll come back to us. We should let him choose.”

As it turns out, Taehyung chooses both. The kitchen is steaming with a delightfully savoury aroma by the time he comes back in through the front door. He hovers in the entrance to the kitchen and dining area for a moment or two, waiting for the chatter to die down once everyone catches sight of him.

Announcing that he was taking a long shower but that he’d be back down and not to wait up, he’d rushed to his bedroom and left you all to confusedly finish preparing the food. He doesn’t return until you’ve all almost finished eating.

When he does, though, he appears like an entirely different person.

Wearing a raggedy shirt and pants, face red from a hot shower but hair dry, he dumps a white plastic bag on an empty space on the table with a dramatic flair.

Jimin watches him warily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Taehyung chirps easily, “we’re dying our hair today.”

The words out of his mouth are totally unexpected, and everyone freezes into a bewildered silence.

Hoseok, with a spoonful of soup and green onion halfway to his face, falters. “Sorry, what?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Taehyung explains, like this is the most important thing he’s ever said. “I don’t want to be excluded and I want to have some fun with you guys instead of moping, so we’re going to dye our hair together.” Pushing aside empty bowls and half-eaten side dishes, the masseuse begins emptying the plastic bag onto the table. Bleach, developer, blood red dye, an emerald green and a deep royal blue.

“Where did you even get those from?” Jin asks, abandoning his plate to eye the products with interest.

“Ordered them online,” Taehyung answers with a shrug. “Well - technically I ordered them ages ago, Jungkookie wanted the e-girl TikTok hair, but I reckon we should just go for it. Some of us are in urgent need of a dye job. Namjoon; that’s you.”

The academic recoils, tugging at his grown-out faded purple ends. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Hoseok winces. “We don’t all have to dye our hair, do we?”

“‘Course not, hyung, you can supervise.”

It takes Yoongi insisting that everyone help clean up the table first that springs everyone into action, and in no time at all Taehyung has scoffed up whatever leftovers remained, and Jin has gathered additional supplies like bowls, towels and tin foil, hustling your ragtag group of eight down to the first-floor bathroom.

It doesnt take long before a temporary salon has been set up in there. With chairs taken from the kitchen, product being mixed in little black bowls on the sink benchtop, and three willing victims clutching towels over their shoulders.

In the first chair, Namjoon is watching in mild alarm as Jimin mixes bleach and developer in a bowl, eyeballing the measurements. With gleaming blue hair of his own, Jimin seems more experienced than some of you, but his job is more difficult than the other stylists of the day, since he had to get rid of Namjoon’s purple before bleaching and dying the lot.

You’d chosen the easiest of the three, Jungkook, and painstakingly consult with some of his favourite TikToks for the right amount of hair to section out as Taehyung takes charge of mixing his own concoction of bleach.

Finally, it’s Jin who has also volunteered to dye hair, although it’s not his own that he wishes to dye. Yoongi sits with a bitter scowl on his face as Jin pours in different coloured dyes into one bowl like a mad scientist. With already blonde hair, Yoongi at least has the luxury of skipping out the extra step, but it just gives Jin more time to conceive a crazy colour.

Hoseok, happy to take on the supervisor role, flutters around and hypes everyone up; massaging Namjoon’s shoulders, letting Jungkook show him countless videos and grimacing at what Jin has in his bowl.

“Hey, Tae,” Yoongi calls out in a forced casual tone, “why is it that when you were the one who bought the dye, you aren’t the one getting chemicals all over his hair?”

The masseuse shrugs easily, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder as he stirs away. “What can I say? I’m an artist, not a canvas.”

Jungkook blinks up at him past your shoulder. “I’d like to see you dye your hair, Tae. You’d look pretty with any colour.”

Taehyung reaches out to pinch the maknae’s cheek fondly, but accidentally leaves a smear of white behind. Jumping into action, you hold Jungkook’s chin steady as you wipe it off with your thumb, feeling his eyes on you and his breath hitch.

“Oh, you’re not- Y- You’re going straight in there,” Namjoon stutters shakily. Letting go of Jungkook’s face and stepping away, you glance over to Namjoon and Jimin.

The younger man has Namjoon’s hair sectioned with clips, painting thick globs of bleach onto the purple in his lower layers. “Don’t worry,” Jimin assures, “you’ll look fantastic after this.”

“Worst case scenario, you can lop it all off,” Jin points out cheerily.

Yoongi’s arm reaches out between folds of the towel on his shoulders, keeping Jin at bay. “You better not lay a fucking hand on me with that mindset.”

“Don’t be silly, Yoonie,” Jin teases, adding in some more green. “You’re my Mona Lisa.”

Yoongi humphs and collapses back against his chair, pink smattering his cheekbones.

Taehyung’s hand wraps lightly around your wrist, handing you the bleach he’d mixed up. “We’re good to go,” he declares to you and Jungkook, “I wanna go see what colour Yoongi-hyung’s getting. You guys start.”

Left in charge of the bleach, you turn back to Jungkook. Standing over him, it’s impossible to ignore the way his doe-eyes observe your every move. “Are you still good with these two chunks?” you check.

He nods quickly, lips pressing into an eager but shy smile. “Do you think it’ll look good?” he asks hopefully.

“You’ll look gorgeous.” Getting him to hold the bowl of bleach up for you, you dip the brush included in the box and begin to brush the white, thick liquid over the strands of black hair. He doesn’t flinch as the brush moves higher, sitting so still and patient. “What colour are you going to get it?”

His cheeks puff as he blows air into them. “Hm, I don’t know. Tae said maybe pink? I could mix in only a little bit of red so it’s not so strong. But then pink fades fast.”

You hum, switching to the other side. “You could dye it red and then when it fades it would fade to pink.”

He lets out a little gasp. “That’s smart! I like it.”

From down the room, Taehyung’s voice echoes. “Hyung, you’re fucked!”

“Hey!” Jin cries. “It’s going to look good, just trust me on this!”

Taehyung leans his back against the sink and clasps his palms together like he’s praying. “Yoongi-hyung, picture this. You’re Bob Ross. You’re painting a beautiful lake on a sunny day. Blue sky, clear water, lush riverbanks. Can you see it?”

Yoongi frowns. “Sure.”

“The little cup of dirty water you used to clean your brushes with? That’ll be your hair.”

“Oh, god,” Yoongi moans miserably, slumping so low he almost falls off the seat.

“Disrespectful little brat,” Jin enunciates as Taehyung moves back across the room. “This was your idea!”

It takes the entire rest of the day, but by the time you all sit down on the couches for dinner - courtesy of a food delivery app, Yoongi and Jin both too tired to cook - three of the eight of you have shiny new looks.

Jungkook looks undeniably striking with his stripes of firetruck red framing his face. Contrasting sharply with the black of the rest of his hair, you could easily mistake him for a Twitch streamer or something, pulling off the look with a natural coolness.

Done with purple, Namjoon had taken advantage of Jimin’s decent level of expertise and let the blue-haired man work his magic, bleaching his hair a couple of times and dying it to the unusual choice of silvery grey, the roots slightly darker so that - in Jimin’s words - he could get away with regrowth for longer.

But perhaps the biggest surprise of all is Yoongi, who smugly peacocks around the room with a unique shade somewhere between mint and teal in his hair. Jin had quietly confessed to you and Jungkook when he was cleaning his bowl that it wasn’t in fact, the colour he intended it to be, but that what Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The blue-green tones are somewhat reminiscent of the clear lake Taehyung was describing, and it brings out the soft pink of Yoongi’s lips and his dark lashes so beautifully. How Jin’s luck never seemed to run out, you didn’t know, but part of you wished you had volunteered yourself for a dye job too. Now you, Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung were the leftovers with natural hair.

Like some sort of unspoken agreement, the seven of you keep a close eye on Taehyung throughout the evening. You let him pick a movie for all of you to watch, pile extra food into his bowl, Jungkook even brings a secret stash of chocolate down from his room to share with him. All of you sensitive of how he must be feeling, it’s only natural that you take extra good care of the masseuse.

And, when it finally comes to head up to bed, Taehyung is flooded by offers to keep him company in the bunkroom. It’s Jungkook he picks, the two thick as thieves, and shortly after midnight your phone goes off from a text that Jungkook has sent to everyone except Taehyung. Just two words that are enough to allow your mind and body to rest. He’s okay.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #ot7 x reader #ot7 smut #bts series

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high-warlock-of-brooklyn · 3 years

Text

would things be easier if there was a right way? (honey there is no right way) (Ao3 link)

@thehuntersmoondiscord Masquerade Exchange for @valinphatombeliver (Hope you like it!)

Ships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (Alternate universe: This World Inverted)

Summary: After that fateful party at the Institute, Magnus's magic is not the only thing that comes back. His soulmark feels alive again, and this time, Magnus is not alone.

Alec feels like an idiot, betting his heart like that, especially after the sting of an almost rejected soulmark pains him worse than a broken heart. So he does the only thing he knows the best, he throws himself into work.

Little do they know that the universe doesn't make mistakes, and will keep pulling them together till they both truly see the truth for themselves.

Alec feels sick.

He’s planned exactly one hundred seventy events in his career, big or small. He’s got a stellar reputation, his own party planner business, his schedule is booked for the next five months in advance, and he’s put the full deposit down for his own apartment in the middle of the city, all at the mere age of twenty seven.

And yet, every time, those words are like a punch to the gut he would never admit out loud to anyone. It’s his own fault, he supposes. That he has to hear it so many times in just a week. And that every time, it’s a false alarm.

Well, all but one.

This one seemed different. This one felt different. At least for Alec.

But then, at the end, another one bit the dust.

Isabelle had warned him, when he showed her the words the day after his eleventh birthday. She’d looked so sad when he first told her about the career he’s chosen. Alec never understood why, until he heard those words for the first time at the first ever event he planned, a small, intimate birthday party for a Manhattan socialite.

Check it again, I’m on the list.

It had felt like he’d been electrocuted, and Alec had dashed outside to the door as fast as he could, pulling down a tablecloth with him as he went, the groans and yells of the restaurant staff unheeded by his heart. But it had been the grandfather of the birthday girl, and a voice in Alec’s heart told him to wait a little bit longer for his soulmate.

That voice had died down entirely after his eighteenth event.

Until this evening at the party at the Institute. Until he felt compelled to let that man in. Until Magnus.

And now, standing here, helping his crew clean up after the party, Alec feels his guts twist in a flurry of emotions he is too tired to process.

Fuck this . He’s just put on the most unique and successful party the business world of New York has ever seen. He deserves a break.

Alec grabs a bottle of whiskey on his way out.

-------------------

The first time the words appeared into his hands, Magnus didn’t understand them.

It had been in a strange script, the letters so different from the ones he’d only started to get acquainted with. But by then he’d been part of something stranger, and started to live with a green-skinned man with horns and white hair who called himself a ‘warlock’, and had told Magnus that he was one too. So knowing his soulmate might be from a strange distant land didn’t seem as jarring as it would have been.

Then he’d lived through times that would have seemed as dreams in his childhood. He’d lived through his travels in the wonderful country of Peru, then had fallen in love with Imasu knowing he wasn’t the one, and had gotten his heart broken. Axel hadn’t even given him a chance, and from what Magnus saw peeking out of the cuffs of his shirt, he’d already found his soulmate in the French court.

The words didn’t lose their effect through the centuries however. Every time he heard someone say ‘ what seems to be the problem? ’, Magnus could feel his pulse racing, his heart swelling, his mind going berserk at the possibility of being united with the one he’d been destined to be with.

It wasn’t the case any of the times. Often it was a Shadowhunter, trying to maintain their precious Law so that no so-called troublemaker Downworlders wouldn't disrupt the precious ‘peace’ they insisted on withholding. Sometimes it was a particularly demanding client, and Magnus delayed more just to piss them off.

One time though, it was a Mundane who came to his rescue to smooth things over when the guard at a bar took offense at Magnus’s general existence. Etta had been a beauty both inside and out, and Magnus had been genuinely happy for her when she left once she found her actual soulmate.

It didn’t make him sad to lose her. She was a friend more than anything else, and her story gave him hope to hold on longer.

After that there was Camille. A force to be reckoned with. Camille, with her sharp edges and sharper fangs. Camille, who made him believe in a love through the ages, only to be betrayed brutally. Camille, who he was ready to beg to so she’d come back to him. Camille, who never told him that her soulmate died the day she was turned, which Magnus found out on his own the day after she cheated on him. Magnus had felt hollow, and empty, and felt like a fool for holding on to hope.

The day he finally closed hell off permanently, he’d lost more than just his magic. Magnus had given up on hope entirely.

Then there was that one boy at a party Magnus wasn’t even invited to. Alec had said those words, looking at Magnus with eyes devouring every single aspect of him. Magnus had half expected himself to turn around and leave. But then Alec had surprised him, and made him come inside.

But then there was a demon attacking Clarissa and the blond boy, the first demon in almost a century. And Magnus had almost forgotten about the boy with those hazel eyes by the time he rushed home, magic singeing the inside of his coat pocket.

It must’ve not been meant to be, Magnus thinks as he nurses the same glass of Rosé for almost an hour, the once warm bathwater now running cold. He pauses for a moment, thinking carefully about what he’s about to do.

Magnus waves a finger, the movement graceless, halted. But the sparks come out anyway, the bathwater warming, turning light pink as Magnus focuses on summoning a bath bomb from his collection in the cabinet near the sink.

Magnus smiles. His soulmate doesn’t want to find him. But that’s okay. He’s got his magic.

Everything’s going to be just fine.

--------------

Alec is, most definitely, not doing fine.

“I need this banner yesterday.” Alec rubs his temple letting out a tired sigh, “I literally needed that last night so my team can finish setting up, and now you’re telling me it’s still not ready?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to tell you. Our primary printer caught on fire and we had to unplug all of them to manage the fire before it went out of hand, and all our orders were cancelled from the queue.”

Alec scrubs his face with the back of his hand, and groans, “My assistant put in the request almost two weeks ago. This is for a dinner party at a multinational company, Andrew. And as we both know, the one of the only things those people spend ridiculous amounts of money on is the banner. I can’t throw a party without one.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Lightwood.” Andrew’s smile is genuinely apologetic. “There’s really not much we can do. If it helps, there’s another customer in booth number three whose banner we were printing when it caught on fire, and he’s been on the list for almost over a month.”

“Eesh, poor guy.” Alec winces.

“Tell me about it.” Andrew tsks. “And he’s a really sweet guy too. Some customers throw a hissy fit if we’re ten minutes late in delivering a order they’ve put in maybe an hour ago, and he’s really understanding and patient. But it’s for his psychic shop and he’s checking in maybe the tenth time now. Kaelie was just telling me that we might lose that account for good. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Alec nods, then looks down as his phone pings with notifications from his team about going over swatch cards. “Andrew, is there nothing you can do? Is there no back alley super shady banner maker somewhere?”

“They make something vastly different than banners, Mr Lightwood.” Andrew chuckles good-naturedly, used to the antics of his long time customer. “Well, I could run to the place near 34th and Wilshire. My cousin works as a temp there. The price is way higher, but they can do a quick job.” Andrew taps away on his phone for a second. “Oh good, Artie says they’re open for another five hours at least.”

“Money’s not an issue.” Alec lets out a relieved sigh, and brings out his credit card. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.” Andrew offers him a bright smile. “I’ll inform you as soon as it’s done.”

“Thank you.” Alec nods, before a thought flashes. “Oh, and, Andrew?”

“Yes, anything else, Mr Lightwood?”

“Yeah. I was thinking you could take the other guy’s order there too?” Alec jerks his head in the direction of the other booths in the shop, the silhouette of another customer visible through the blurry divider between the counters.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll ask him.” Andrew gets up to approach the man, but Alec stops him.

“Don’t tell him anything, just put the extra fee on my card.”

“But-”

“It’s okay,” Alec smiles.

Andrew shakes his head, his golden curls shaking with the motion. “You’re a good egg, Mr Lightwood.”

“Just paying it forward.”

---------------

The fire alarm goes off after the second time. Magnus groans as the noise threatens to invoke a migraine. At least he can use his magic to soothe it this time.

The same magic that caused the fire he’s been scrambling to put out for the past thirty seconds. For a small cauldron fire, the sparks are notoriously hard to douse. Being dormant for almost a century, and then suddenly trying to make a magical banner for his kinda-sorta psychic business would do that to a warlock’s magic, he supposes.

Maybe he should consult a spellbook or something. Only there’s no precedent for a banner making spell because graphic designed banners didn’t exist by the time magic was last used.

Well, first time for everything.

The doorbell rings, and Magnus sighs, trying his best to smooth down the no doubt wild hair he’s got from running his hand over and over through it. Pardon him, it’s been a very stressful day.

“Mr Bane? This is Sananda from the Banner Emporium. I have a delivery for you.”

The girl with a neon green streak in her braid hands him a large roll of paper, which Magnus holds up with more than a little difficulty.

“Sign here please.” The girl says, chewing gum disinterestedly. Magnus puts the banner down before taking the signing sheet.

“I thought the shop printer broke.” Magnus returns the sheet. “Did you guys fix it already?”

“No clue, I just work as delivery.” The girl shrugs. “My boss told me to make two deliveries only today, one to you and another to some party planner office. Guess they did some fixing, huh?”

Magnus smiles, tipping the girl a twenty. The girl offers a mock salute, and walks away humming the tune of a pop song. Magnus closes the door behind her, a smile slowly spreading on his face as he uncoils the banner.

Bane: Psychic and tarot card readings

It looks perfect. But Magnus doesn’t get long to marvel at it, because the phone rings. His old landline, which means only one person could be calling.

“Hello Ragnor.” Magnus answers, happy to talk to one of his oldest and closest friends after such a long time.

“Magnus, why didn’t you call me? I had to hear from Catarina that you might have met your soulmate?” Ragnor goes right to the point, tone accusatory.

Magnus takes comfort in the fact that while the whole world might change, Ragnor Fell, ever the a wonderful friend, never will. “I’m not even sure myself, how was I supposed to tell you? I’ve heard a thousand of those Ragnor, you know that better than anyone.”

“Still, Magnus.” Ragnor’s voice comes out tinny, “You don’t have to have the perfect relationship, because there is nothing like that in the world. All we can do is take a leap of faith, and hope that it’s not an abyss. But you have to keep taking that leap.”

“Why are you giving me relationship advice at what is supposed to be early morning at yours?” Magnus asks, eager to change the subject.

“Because I never needed mine, and I’m happy that way, yet I know how much you’ve waited for yours. One of these days, you’re going to have to seize the opportunity no matter what, and take a chance upon love.”

By the time Magnus hangs up, it’s been almost hours. Ragnor’s phones are a rare commodity, the warlock ever so averse of technology, and they do have almost three years worth of conversations to catch up on. Magnus is exhausted, and even though he hates admitting it, Ragnor is right. He could’ve stayed at that party, checked up on Clarissa and her boyfriend, made sure their memories didn’t resurface.

He could have stayed and danced with Alec too.

But he’s been so freaked out, he tells himself. He’s been out of his mind with worry for the demon attack and his magic and different worlds and his probably shoddy memory spellwork.

And maybe he’s also been afraid. Afraid that if he went after Alec, he’d risk everything, his life, his secrets, his meticulously prepared facade that he’s totally fine, especially with the explicit probability that he might not be Alec’s soulmate, even if Alec is his.

Ugh. Magnus scrubs his face with the back of his hand. What a mess this is.

Chairman struts his way into the drawing room, fresh up from a nap, and rubs his face into Magnus’s calf demanding pets. Magnus picks him up, scratching him under his chin. The cat purrs happily, and Magnus makes a decision.

---------------

“One honey macchiato with extra whipped cream please.”

Jace turns to see the man on the other side of the counter, a small frown on his face as he tries to place the face somewhere in his memory. Magnus shuffles from toe to toe, lips pinched together tensely. Jace regards him closely, and doubt rises in the back of Magnus’s mind.

Did he do a sloppy job?

It’s not an exact science, to be frank. Memory magic hardly ever is. It’s not quantifiable like potions, and definitely not by the book like a summoning. Memory magic is, at its root, intuitive. Blindly stumbling about in another person’s mind and hoping as hell that you didn’t erase some developmental memories.

And if anyone knows anything about Magnus, it is that he really isn’t a coffee man. Not anymore anyway. He used to be, once upon a bygone era, when waking up after a night of partying and starting the day with another bout of partying had to be connected with the help of a magically summoned cup of coffee. But those days are far gone, and Magnus mostly prefers his jasmine tea with a touch of honey. Which is why he came to Java Jace to check up on the blond. He’s no more his old self than his magic is controllable.

Still, he’d hoped that it would’ve come back like riding a bicycle.

That hope seems pretty bleak now, as Jace crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at the man in a white cardigan in front of him. “Is this his way of apologizing to me after he criticized my barista skill yesterday?”

“Uh….what?” Magnus asks confusedly.

“I told him that honey macchiato is my least ordered item and literally he’s the only one who orders it and that’s why I have to keep an entire thing on the menu, and get honey from the supermarket too.”

“Sorry, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Magnus winces.

“Wait, you don’t know the Lightwoods, do you?” Jace nods gravely, “And I just accused a customer for no reason at all, what a dumbass I am.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Magnus waves it off.

“No, no, seriously. Sorry man.” Jace goes to make the drink with a practiced hand. “But I have to say, you seem awfully familiar. Did I see you somewhere before? Maybe in college?”

“Uhh….” Magnus chuckles nervously, panic rising steadily in his heart, “I don’t think so. Unless you went to school in Indonesia.”

“That’s a no. Born in London but grew up here.” Jace nods. “Sorry, I can just really picture you and Clary inside a basement, I was there too.”

“Um-”

“Oh god that sounded so creepy. I swear it wasn’t something weird or anything, I can just remember feeling really scared all of a sudden. Maybe I should stop drinking from my own shop, huh?”

Jace’s casual grin does nothing to soothe Magnus’s nerves, and he smiles along politely, and sends wisps of magic through the minute contact between them as the barista hands over his order. Jace jolts immediately, looks down, curling and uncurling his fingers over and over.

“Everything okay?” Magnus asks tentatively. Jace throws an unsure smile his way.

“Yeah, just, almost burnt my fingers I guess. Hazards of working in the food industry, right?” Magnus doesn’t answer, instead brings out his card to pay, till Jace claps his hands loudly. “I knew it! I knew I remembered you from somewhere.”

Magnus’s heart sinks faster than lead in water, and he racks his brain for any spell that could come in handy for a quick memory erasure. Except it’s been over two centuries, and his memory is definitely not what it used to be when he used magic regularly.

“You’re that psychic right? The one Luke went to? You know, Luke Greymark? He owns a bookshop on the crossing of 22nd and Richardson.”

A breath of relief punches its way out of Magnus, shoulders sagging visibly. “Yes, I remember him. He’s a very good man.”

“He is.” Jace nods. “He’s my girlfriend’s godfather, actually.”

“Oh.” That’s all Magnus says, afraid to shake the still brittle effects of his spell. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.”

---------------

“Dude, I almost lost a customer because of you today.”

“What?” Alec asks, half of his attention on his phone where his assistant’s been sending him swatches for their latest event. “No no no, pink’s all wrong.” Alec mumbles as he types, “Go for lilac, much more elegant.”

“Here you go, one honey macchiato with chocolate drizzle.” Alec reaches for the cup bindly, but is met with blank space. He looks up finally, only to meet with Jace’s unimpressed glare. “What? I’m arranging a gala for a very, very, very moody client. I mean ‘changes the guest list every three minutes’ kind of moody.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Jace hands him his coffee finally, wincing as Alec takes a sip of the still hot drink. “Seriously, how does that not burn your throat?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” Alec throws a lewd wink his way, making Jace throw a bunch of stirrers at him. Alec finally puts the phone down after a bout of rigorous texting, and looks up at Jace. “Now, what is this customer you were telling me about?”

“Just some psychic dude, came in and ordered that godforsaken drink you make me make you every morning. I half thought he was joking and you sent him.”

“I didn’t.” Alec shakes his head.

“Yeah, he told me. It’s all cool,” Jace shrugs. “Funny thing too, he seemed really sweet, and with a sweet tooth like yours. You would’ve liked him.”

“Uh huh.” Alec says off-handedly, already busy texting back to his team.

-----------------

The last gala Magnus went to was in 1903.

It’s been a hell of a time. Quite literally too, since a hellmouth opened in the middle of the dance floor. It had taken all the warlocks present to close it, and even then they couldn’t have done it without the Shadowhunters pouring in with weapons drawn.

It had also been the last time Magnus ever used magic in battle.

It seems that way now, bringing out the outfits that found their way in the back of Magnus’s closet, unused and unneeded for decades after decades. Magnus had lost touch with his magic, all warlocks did, but for someone like Magnus, someone breathing and living in magic day after day, needing it like air in his lungs, it had been drastic.

Magnus had cut ties with almost all of his old friends. It hadn’t been intentional, for most of the cases. Just seeing those warlocks ready and accepting eternity without magic made him despair far more than the actual reckoning of it. Catarina still comes around every few weeks, more often if she’s exhausted after an especially gruelling day at the ER. Ragnor still sends letters every few years aside from his phonecalls, his horned friend adamant on keeping the beautiful traditions of penpals alive by his sheer force of will.

But somewhere down the road, Magnus had stopped being the man he once was.

The clothes of an era bygone stare him in the eyes as he brings them out one by one- shirts, pants, breeches, boots, accessories that museums would give a limb and a half for.

The reason for all this, lies heavy at his desk in this other room.

Malcolm Fade was a wild man while he had magic. After losing his soulmate to the whims of the Nephilim, he’d grown almost mad it had seemed, until he lost his magic as well. Magnus had visited him a few times in the past, while everyone was still reeling from the loss of the Shadow World. Malcolm had seemed like his older self, more cheerful, more present in general. Magnus had been glad to see his old friend coming back to himself, and hoped this change will continue to be good for him.

It seems that his love for extravagant parties has not changed however.

The pale lavender envelope was hand delivered almost two days ago, making Magnus lose enough sleep over it already. What does it mean to have been invited to a gala, while his magic is back and in such a precarious way?

Magnus had stayed up staring at the invitation for hours, until he had decided to go at precisely 3:47 am, and to conceal the return of his magic until absolutely necessary.

Malcolm may be a friend, but he's a friend who suffered the loss of a soulmate, who Magnus last remembers having the Black Volume necessary for necromancy, and who isn’t above violence to get his Annabel back, if history is witness.

It’s better to bide his time. Learn to control it better.

And there's still a tiny part of him that thinks this is all temporary, and that this too will pass like a phase of the moon.

Magnus doesn’t pay any attention to that part, instead gathers up some clothes to take to the tailor nearby for a quick fitting.

---------------

“Holy fuck.” Alec gapes at the fabric lying on the fitting table at David’s tailor shop. It’s practically Manhattan’s worst kept secret at this point, that while a big name company may provide you a great designer dress or suit, you always come to David and his wife Genya for fitting. He’s seen them work wonders with his most nitpicky of clients, and for all the business the Lightwood name brings, he practically has an open access to the place.

The fabric’s unlike anything he’s seen before, the threadwork in gold and the artistically arranged deep brown buckles might seem too much, but yet it all ties perfectly together somehow.

“Is it the fabric you’re making my waistcoat in? Please say yes!” Alec tries to make a pleading face, but Genya hits his slouching back with the back of her measurement board.

“Stand still. Or I can’t work on you, and you can go wherever you’re going in this weird bulging state.” If it had been anyone else, Alec would’ve had a comeback, but Genya is a force to be reckoned with, and that eyebrow quirk is sure to leave his gambit backfiring. So Alec keeps his mouth shut, and the ginger hums appreciatively.

“This isn’t ours, sorry Alec.” David answers him with an apologetic smile.

“All good.” Alec offers, standing as still as possible, so as to not anger the seamstress currently working on the seam of his cuffs.

“That’s actually from one of our oldest clients.” Genya says, her voice muffled as she turns to work on Alec’s pants. “He came in and said his great grandfather had this made from us in the early 1900s. Said he’s going to a themed party and needed a refit.”

“Funny, the party I’m arranging is also themed around the early twentieth century.” Alec nods, before rolling his eyes. “Though honestly my client has made it into an hodgepodge if you ask me.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna do a wonderful job either way.” Genya offers, David nodding along with his wife.

They always seem such an odd couple, Genya with her fiery heart and strong smile and eager to talk to everyone, and David with his quiet sketches and always busy doing something . Alec has never seen two people so opposite, yet so in love.

His soulmark itches in the corner of his ribs, and Alec moves involuntarily, making Genya tut loudly. He doesn’t have time to think about wherever his soulmate is, whatever he’s doing.

He can’t.

That’s why he took this gig, after so many of his friends gave up trying to coordinate with Malcolm Fade’s- ahem, eccentric- choices. They all warned him about it, about the insufferability of it all, but he needed something, anything , after that day. Because no matter what he did, those kind brown eyes would come back to haunt him in his sleep, the smile in them so cruel, so mocking.

Genya taps on his shoulder, shattering his thoughts for the time being, and Alec’s grateful for the little intervention before his thoughts could turn dark like they’ve been for a few days now. Alec understands it, has heard of it. It’s the lack of the bond while coming so close to his soulmate. The bond is snapping forward, trying to find its twin, only to meet with emptiness.

Alec wants to rip it out of himself.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Alec. You’re going to be okay.” Genya says, not unkindly. She’s always had the uncanny ability to understand exactly what goes on inside someone’s head, and no matter how much Alec tries, it works on him nonetheless. It used to unnerve him, now it just feels familiar.

“I’m going to be more than okay,” Alec jokes, trying to lighten the mood, “I’m going to be fabulous in this suit. You’ve truly outdone yourself, David.”

The man in question only smiles a little, while Genya looks over her husband proudly, love shining in her blue eyes. Alec looks away from them, the bond screaming all alone in his chest. It’s too painful to look at people so clearly in love.

“When they come back to pick it up, tell them I said they have excellent taste.” Alec spares one last glance at the cloth lying on the table, before walking out to the counter.

---------------------

Magnus is late to his first proper gala in over a century.

It’s really the Chairman's fault, he sighs to himself. If the cat hadn’t decided to be an absolute arse today, he would’ve been out the door to get his waistcoat at least an hour earlier. It’s a miracle he’s not missing the party entirely.

Well, a miracle and maybe a little bit of magic.

Okay, maybe more than a little.

It’s dangerous to try out portalling at such an early stage of his magic’s comeback, Magnus knows. The theory has also been proven multiple times as he stumbled across a petting zoo in France and an abandoned ruins of a church in Rome for the past hour. It took him three tries to finally get the location right. At least, knowing New York traffic, he’s still earlier than it would’ve taken him in a taxi.

Maybe he shouldn’t have uninstalled uber so soon.

The doorman regards him closely, and Magnus feels himself stiffen under the strict scrutiny. He feels like an actor playing pretense, his clothes and makeup all done in the hands of a man he no longer is. But, it’s still fun to see so many familiar faces under the same roof.

Whoever planned this party did a wonderful job of it, Magnus thinks. The chandelier is reflecting all the disco lights currently hanging from the ballroom, a swath of artifacts and activities from several different decades all in the same place, as is Malcolm’s taste, Magnus remembers.

But there’s still order in this chaos, a type of organized mess of a beauty, and Magnus can appreciate it. His thoughts flow, unbridled, as he takes a glass of soda on the rocks from the bartender, about a similar party he went to not too long ago, and how everything changed since then.

His moment of tranquil appreciation is soon interrupted by a pink-skinned phouka slamming into him. Magnus loses balance at the collision, and the world flips the centre of gravity in a blink of an eye, his drink spilling everywhere.

“Shit.” Magnus swears low in his throat.

“Can’ye see w’er y’er goin’?” The phouka yells in a deep accent, startling Magnus.

“I’m sorry.” Magnus apologizes, knowing full well it was not, in fact, his fault. It’s not in his nature to cause conflict. Even if he’s the one drenched in soda.

Even if his magic is crackling at his fingertips for a retaliation.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Magnus feels his magic going into overdrive, his skin feels too tight- too hot- too everything . He’s feeling like he’s seeing the whole party from a different perspective, the colours feel more vibrant, the chandelier a little sparklier, the sweet stench of the spilled drink a little stronger.

He feels drunk without having a single sip of anything.

“This nothin’ nobody’s tryna ge’ in the par’y for a quick sip, I reckon. I doubt he’s even in the list Mr Fade gave’em.” The phouka gives him a dirty glance. Magnus considers baring his eyes- his true eyes- for him to see exactly who this ‘nothing nobody’ is.

He decides against it at the last moment, instead pulls himself to his full height, towering over the barely four feet tall fae. Magnus juts his chin out the way he’s seen his best friend do every time he asks Raphael for a movie night, puts his mask away, and buttons the open jacket, regardless of its now drenched state. “My name is Magnus Bane. Check your damn list again.”

“Magnus.”

----------------

Alec feels like he’s dreaming.

This party is a dream in itself, the setting is done deliberately to emulate a sort of dream like chaos. He’s chosen his own outfit accordingly, a white a black ensemble, with an elaborate angel mask that covers his cheekbones in what looks like wings.

He looks divine and he knows it.

He was ready to be a professional tonight, making sure everything goes off without a hitch, half because Mr Fade is late to his own party, and half because he had to be, because staying cooped up in his apartment with netflix and pizza sounds a lot less appealing than whatever happens here.

Even though his mind is swimming with pain from the almost rejected bond.

Even though the pain of it seems imprinted on his very soul.

But then there’s a disturbance, one of Malcolm’s tiny bouncers yelling at a man who smells like the kind of expensive soda Isabelle likes. A man wearing the same jacket Alec saw on David’s table only a few hours ago.

Alec had been delighted, ready to make conversation with the man wearing the jacket he’s been so fond of- the same man in that simple yet elegant black and white handheld domino mask, until he’d noticed his eyes.

Until he’d said those words.

Alec feels the floor tilt from under him, every inch of his body screaming to go up to him, to introduce himself, to dance with him until they can’t anymore. It seems like a different sort of madness, and Alec’s not sure he’s objecting.

“Magnus?” He asks, hope blossoming like ivy under his skin.

“Alec.”

His name on those lips is what leaves Alec undone. All his professionalism, all his suaveness, everything Alec Lightwood ever is or ever will be, concentrated on those two syllables from the man Alec has waited a long- maybe too long- to meet.

Alec starts forward, a step taken almost unconsciously, his words warm against his ribs. Magnus has put his mask down minutes ago, and as he looks at his face, Alec feels like he’s falling into a never ending tunnel of love.

Those simple strokes of metallic eyeliner, like starlight bathed in gold. And in between them, the kindest, most beautiful eyes he has ever seen.

“Magnus.” Alec chokes out again, unable to say anything else. Magnus stretches a hand out for him to hold, and Alec takes it like a drowning man being offered a raft.

It takes him a moment to realize that the words have stopped hurting, as if a simple touch from Magnus have doused the burning flame into cool waves of calm.

---------------

Magnus takes a leap of faith.

Alec’s voice feels choked, like it hurts him to breathe anymore, and Magnus feels his whole life flash in front of him, all eight hundred years of it. It’s been too long, far too long, since he’s taken a chance on love. He’s gone cozy in his little comfort zone, happy to stay unrejected.

But he doesn’t want to do that anymore. So he offers a hand, a simple gesture masking a thousand words.

I’m sorry it took me so long.

I’m sorry I ran away.

I’m sorry I didn’t look for you.

I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere else.

Alec catches his hand, holding him close like the only hope in his whole world, and Magnus feels like he’s weightless, floating on clouds.

“Dance with me?” Alec asks, the question more of a request than anything else.

Magnus doesn’t find it in himself to say no, and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to either. So he smiles, eyes crinkling with hope and happiness and possibility. “I thought you’d never ask.”

------------

The fast pop music changes into a slow waltz as the two of them go down to the dancefloor, a round ballroom stretching almost fifty meters every which way. Alec pulls Magnus right underneath the enormous chandelier, the reflected golden light painting them both in halos. They sway together, happy to just be close for the moment, and Alec is grateful. He doesn’t have it in him to talk right now, not when everything feels too perfect and too much like everything he’s ever wanted.

Finally, the music ends, and Magnus looks at him for a long moment right in the middle of the dance floor. Alec feels uncharacteristically nervous, everything he is laid bare in front of his soulmate. But he doesn’t shy away, instead he meets his gaze head on, before Magnus grabs his hand. Alec lets himself be led out of the ballroom, away from the crowd, finally stopping at the adjoined balcony, away from prying eyes.

“I’m sorry about the other day.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

Both men speak at the same time, before pausing to comprehend what just happened. A small smile graces Magnus’s face, and Alec wants to live in it, revel in it, spend his forever in it.

“I’ll go first,” Magnus says, “I’m sorry I walked out on you abruptly that day. There was an emergency and I had to leave.”

“Emergency?” Alec asks, concerned, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. Everything is fine.” Magnus assures him. “Just- I told myself I left for that reason only, but the truth is, I was scared. I’ve heard those words a million times before, and every time they scarred me like a blade. I was so scared- scared of everything that I would be taking a chance on- afraid what I would be risking. I’m sorry. Really really sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Alec stops Magnus, clasping both his hands with his own, “I could have looked for you, tried to understand why you left, why you didn’t talk to me. I’ve heard my words too, over and over and over again. Until they hurt like a million paper cuts at the same time. And- and after you, I was so caught up in my own hurt, I didn’t stop to think there could be a second explanation.”

“I’m so sorry.” Magnus lowers his eyes, guilt overflowing his heart.

“Don’t be. Please don’t be.” Alec brings up Magnus’s hands, kissing them both, “You came back to me, that’s all that matters. I’m so so so happy to see you again.”

“This whole time I’ve been running up and down the whole city, trying to forget you somehow , but it’s like the more I tried to forget everything, the more the world just pulled me towards you.” Alec lets out a surprised chuckle. “I tried to plan a corporate party, but the banner place fucked up, and I had to get it done from somewhere else, and they told me about this other guy who’d been the same kind of bindup like me, and that he’s sweet and polite and that he’s been trying to get his banner for weeks, and all I could picture was you, and I just- I just couldn’t not help him.”

Magnus feels recognition hit him full force. “You’re the one who told Andrew to get my banner done in time?”

Alec stares at him for a full minute before speaking. “Oh god. Please don’t tell me it was you who went to Jace’s to get the same order as me.”

“You know Jace?”

“Our parents are high school friends, we practically grew up together.” Alec explains. “Honey macchiato?”

“Honey macchiato.” Magnus smiles, the two sharing a secret between just them under the night sky while the party rages on inside.

“And you were at David and Genya’s,” Alec says half to himself, before smiling mirthfully, “I told them to tell the owner of the jacket that they have great taste.”

“And?” Magnus goads him on.

“And I’ve decided that the owner has amazing taste, especially in soulmates.” Alec winks. “Though their taste is not enough to rival my own, because my soulmate is better, prettier, more amazing, than everyone else in the world. Brighter than all the stars in the sky.”

Magnus sputters for a second at the compliment, splotchy blush blooming on his golden cheeks as he ducks his head. Alec can’t stop grinning.

“Can we get out of here?” Magnus says in a stroke of sudden confidence, the surety in his voice evaporating as soon as the words leave his lips.

Alec makes an exaggerated gesture of being surprised, and Magnus can’t be annoyed with him even if he wanted to. “Mr Bane. Oh my. So forward.”

“You don’t have to.” Magnus adds quickly. “I get it, this is your event, and we can leave once it’s over. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t say that, Magnus.” Alec practically bounces the way to the reception, and signs off on a few papers, before explaining some things to his assistants. All the while holding Magnus’s hand in his own, like it’s his second nature by now.

Magnus feels like he’s walking on sunshine.

-------------------

Later, Magnus and Alec stumble into his shop-in-apartment in Brooklyn, tangled together with limbs and mouths and hearts and bonds, losing touch with the reality of where one begins and another ends, words of love and promises whispered into every kiss.

I love you.

I’m not going to leave.

We’re together.

Everything’s going to be alright.

----------------

#alec lightwood #magnus bane #hmdiscord #malec #malec fanfic #jay.fic #mine #writing #my writing #this world inverted #twi!alec #twi!magnus #alternate alec #alternate magnus

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

the story of us {poe dameron}

for @unstoppableforcce for the v.day fix exchange (organised by the lovely @sergeantkane!) i hope you enjoy❤️

warnings: probably a few swear words, but other than that, it’s all g

- jamie

The galaxy didn’t stop for anything. Not even Valentine’s Day

And it sucked. It really sucked. Not because you and Poe ever went all out (who had the time?) but because it was one day that you should have spent together and you were both busy. It wasn’t his fault, nor was it yours. The Resistance was more demanding than ever and you both had to prioritise fighting the good fight. If you didn’t, neither of you would have had much of a galaxy to live in, let alone be together in. Despite that, Poe always made a point of reminding you how much he loved you on every regular day - it was more so in the things he did for you, like bringing you your favourite coffee every morning and leaving you little notes on the mirror in the refresher.

Unbeknownst to you, however, he had a few things up his sleeve (in typical Dameron fashion). It had started in the morning when you’d woken up to find a picture of the two of you stuck to the mirror. It was one that Finn had taken not long before you’d begun dating; you’d both been tired from a mission, and he’d come to the mess hall to find you and Poe passed out on another. You were slumped against him, his arm strewn across your shoulder and both your mouths hanging open. Even though you hadn’t quite woken up properly, you couldn’t help but grin at the picture - even more so when you saw what was written on the back.

Four years ago: the day I realised I liked you a lot more than I should have.

You tucked the photo into the pocket of your jeans, barely able to hide your smile as you headed to work.

The base itself had been decorated for the day - Leia’s doing, probably - with love heart banners strewn across the walls and colourful glitter poured in random places. You’d learnt about the latter apart when Rey had activated her lightsaber, only to get blasted in the face with a mouthful of pink and red hearts. Your joy, however, had been short lived when you’d realised that it was all over your shared office. How much did you want to bet that you’d still be finding it in the crevices of your desk next year?

‘A wonderful start to the day.’ Rey muttered, dumping the laser sword onto the table.

‘I am not cleaning that up.’ You teased.

When you took a seat at your desk, you noticed another photo stuck to the monitor of your holopad. It was from a trip you and Poe had taken to Yavin-4 as friends. Everyone at the time had called bullshit on that part, and you both knew it too. It was at the end of said trip that he’d confessed his feelings for you, and you’d had your first kiss under the moonlight in the backyard of his childhood home. It sounded very romantic, but not moments later, there had been a clap of thunder and the heavens had opened on you. The picture was of you and him wrapped in a blanket by the fire, both drenched to the bone as you shivered together. Kes had taken the picture when neither of you were looking, and he’d managed to catch Poe peering down at you, brown eyes filled with adoration. It was definitely one of your favourite photos together.

Peeling it off the monitor, you flipped it around to look at the message on the back.

Three years and eight months ago: the day I realised I loved you (even though I didn’t say it for like...another six months. Thanks for being patient).

‘Everything okay?’ Rey asked.

‘Yeah.’ You glanced up at her, forcing a smile. ‘Just kinda bummed that Poe’s been called out all day.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She placed a hand on your shoulder. ‘If it’s any comfort, I saw him sneaking around the base with armfuls of photos of you earlier.’

‘Sneaking?’ You snorted.

‘Okay, trying to sneak.’

‘Poe Dameron is a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them.’ You grinned.

The statement rung completely true: his inability to not get excited about everything and tell everyone about whatever his plans were meant that the entire base knew about his surprises before you did. When he’d proposed to you, he’d sworn to himself that he was only going to tell Finn in advance. Then, Poe had told Rey too in a moment of joy, and then Kare, and then Snap, and then Leia and before he knew it, he’d had to spend the entire day running around the place, making them promise to keep schtum. By some miracle, the message didn’t get back to you, and the whole thing did end up being a surprise.

In fact, the third photo - one you’d found in your desk drawer - was from that day. Poe had tried to take a selfie with you, only for you to kiss him just as the camera went off. Your hand was resting on the side of his cheek, Shara’s ring glinting under the flash of the camera. The picture had been his holopad background ever since, and the message on the back was almost enough to made you cry.

Two years ago: the day you promised to be with me forever, even though I’m a pain in the ass

You found the fourth photo in one of your files, not long after your lunch break. It was paperwork from a mission that you’d been filing the night before, so he must have snuck it in whilst you were still asleep. It lead you to wonder how long he’d been planning the whole thing for - knowing him, it was probably months. He managed to pull something so sweet and so personal off each year, and this was probably your favourite one so far. The fact he’d managed to do something so thoughtful and so kind without even being there was a testament to Poe Dameron himself.

The photo that fell out of your paperwork was from just over a year ago. It was one of you, Rey, Finn and Poe in one of your favourite cantinas. It had been after a successful mission, and the drinks were flowing all night, smiles hardly faltering until you all fell asleep. You were sat on Poe’s lap, his arms looped around your front and his head resting on your shoulder. The night was a little blurry - too much beer, perhaps - and you couldn’t even remember who had taken it. Either way, it was still one of your favourites, because it was your entire world contained to one single photo. The message on the back was just as Poe as the last three.

Thirteen months ago: the day I realised I was with the greatest people in the galaxy (you take top spot, but Finn and Rey are pretty cool too)

The rest of the ones that you found through out the day were all throwbacks to other important moments in your relationship. There was one of you in his hoodie, titled the day I realised you looked better in my clothes than I do and another of the two of you fixing his X-Wing, labelled the day I realised you know nothing about X-Wings. Both of your faces were smeared with grease, and you were in fits of giggles together about something. You hadn’t realised how lucky you were to have friends that enjoyed taking pictures.

By the time dinner rolled around, you’d collected about twenty photos. The fact that you hadn’t seen Poe yet completely sucked, but his little stunt had kept you smiling all day. Even if he wasn’t with you physically, you knew he was thinking about you. Hell, he was always thinking about you, not just exclusively today. His ability to bring you up in every conversation and namedrop you to anyone who would listen was testament to that.

As the day passed and the sky dimmed, you retired to your desk with some caff from the mess-hall and a pile of papers. Rey had long disappeared to do...Jedi stuff? Whatever the hell that deemed, you weren’t sure. It meant that you were left alone in the office, glancing between your files and the pile of photos you’d accumulated throughout the day with a soft smile. Your holopad occasionally beeped with messages, but it wasn’t until you heard Poe’s specified notification sound that you finally pushes aside your work to check them.

Meet me in the hangar - bring the photos.

You grinned at the message - finally.

Grabbing your jacket - actually, it was Poe’s - and tossing it over your shoulders, you flicked the lights in your office off and headed for the hangar. The hallways were pretty much empty by then; everybody else was either having dinner or spending the evening with their respective significant other. It meant that you could easily sprint to where you needed to be, without having to worry about crashing into anyone or being reprimanded by a stingy commander.

You met Poe halfway across the room, bodies colliding together as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you in the air. He spun you around for a moment, before placing you firmly on the ground and crashing his lips onto yours. They were warm and soft and so familiar, a welcome contrast from the pain you’d been feeling all day from missing him. The little collection of photos had only reminded you of how much he meant to you (everything) and made the yearning even stronger. His grip on you barely faltered as he pulled away, pausing to admire you for a moment.

‘Happy Valentine’s day, baby.’ Poe grinned.

‘Right back at you.’ You pressed a kiss to his jaw. ‘Is there a particular reason that we’re in the hangar?’

‘We’re going somewhere.’ His smile only grew wider.

‘Aaaand where might that be?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘It’s a surprise.’ He flung an arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the ships. ‘I know it’s a little late, but I spent most the afternoon begging the General to let me use the Falcon.’

‘How’d that go?’

‘Dreadfully.’ Poe snorted, pulling you closer into his side. ‘But she said yes.’

‘You’re kidding?’

You’d only been on the Millenium Falcon a few times, but it was hands down your favourite ship. There was so much history behind it - not just between you and Poe, but for the Resistance the Rebellion in general. You dreaded to think how much grovelling your husband had done on your behalf to make Leia agree to let the two of you borrow it, but it wasn’t something you were going to complain about. It was far better than being cramped into the one-person cockpit of his X-Wing; that was something you’d done many, many times and you always ended up with a back-ache.

‘Am I allowed even a clue?’ You asked, following him up the ramp and into the ship.

‘You do know what a surprise is, right?’ Poe teased, leading you through the galley.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a smile. ‘You’re normally terrible at them.’

‘I think I pulled off today’s pretty well.’ He grinned at you.

You both took a seat in the cockpit. Your eyes lingered on the dice hanging up by the window for a moment -- even though Leia had originally kept them on her person, she ended up returning them to the ship for safe-keeping and good luck. Your heart always stung a little when you looked at them, just because you knew the history behind them. They held the same sort of sentiment of the ring on your finger and all the photos you’d collected today: memories. Years and years of memories, some filled with love, and some bittersweet ones. You knew, however, that your story was going to have a happier ending.

---

Poe didn’t fly for too long -- maybe forty five, fifty minutes.

You’d spent most of the journey chatting about everything and nothing, as you often did. You gelled so well together that you could easily spend hours talking, and completely forget about the world around you. It was one of the things you loved about Poe, especially when there were times that you needed to forget your surroundings. He was always an escape, and in the best way possible. A reminder that, even though the galaxy could be dark, there was always good. He went out of his way to remind you to be hopeful, and to fight for the best. And, more often that not, he would reference the two of you finding each other in the Resistance as an example of it.

‘Are you gonna tell me where we are now?’ You asked.

‘Nope.’ Poe replied. ‘C’mon. It’s not too far of a walk.’

His arm returned to your shoulders as you exited the jet, boots met with wet ground - sand.

Not just the sand, but the beach.

The smell of sea salt hung in the air, clearing your senses of the stuffy, recycled air that surrounded the base. It was clear and crisp, hitting your skin with a welcomed iciness. You could hear the sound of the ocean in the distance, slowly to-and-froing, crashing against the land with a gentle whoosh, almost as if it were greeting you.

‘C’mon.’

Poe suddenly grabbed you from behind, lifting you up in the air and catching your legs before they could hit the ground. He had one arm tucked under yours and the other under your knees, carrying with ease through the jungle and towards the sound of the sea. He held you close to his chest, brown eyes concentrating on the ground ahead of you so that he didn’t trip. He was always beautiful, but even more so under the moon-light of the evening, casting a silver glow over the two of you as he broke through the trees and out onto the plains of the sand,

‘D’you know where we are now?’ He gently asked, placing you on the ground. His arm returned to your side, snaking around your waist and pulling you back towards him.

‘Yeah.’ You smiled. ‘Four years ago, you crashed your X-Wing just over there.'

‘And you pulled me out the wreckage before the whole thing went up in flames.’ He continued the story.

‘It was my first day and I had no idea what to do.’ You remembered it with a soft laugh.

‘You saved my ass.’ He pressed a kiss to your temple. ‘And frankly, you’ve done it every day since.’

He turned so that he was facing you, one hand resting on your hip and the other on the back of your neck. For all his funny moments and grandeur, Poe Dameron could be soft as fuck. It was something that very few people every got to see, and mostly something that he saved for you, and only you. It was something you often witnessed under the covers of the dark, when it was just the two of you laying in bed together, softly murmuring about your day.

‘I love you, Poe.’ You murmured. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t - ah fuck.

‘I love you more.’ He gave you a watery grin. ‘I did give you those photos for a reason, though.’

‘Yeah?’

He fumbled around the backpack he’d brought, producing a book. It had a picture of you, him and BB-8 on the front, with The Story of Us scribbled across the front in his mildly terrible hand writing. He flipped it open, to show several empty pages.

‘It’s dumb and cheesy as fuck, but I wanted somewhere to keep all those photos.’ He explained. ‘I know that we know our story, but it’s nice to look back at them, right?’

‘It is.’ You smiled. ‘Those photos made my whole day.’

‘I’m glad.’ He beamed back at you. ‘And we can keep adding to it. I’d like to think that this is only just the beginning.’

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